#you are lucky you fucker and you are being a fuckhead

[bubblepopsims]

~Bunny Bear Madalyn Marie ft. bunny boop

i couldn't pass up on not putting my bun in these accessories by @1-800-cuupid CC set💘Bunny Bop || VENUS💘

and fits perfectly with my naughty innocent Maddi

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 #the tribe #my sims #oc: Maddi #oc: Rafael fl0ptrait #bunny bun #also I have to say it XD maddi is thick alright 🤣🤣🤣 and no it’s not fake at all she grew up like that 🤣 #I played maddi and emillie both for Highschool years mhm mhm and it was actually going to be about them but than… BUT THAN I made juju #and it was over 🤣🤣🤣 she had main character energy written all over her #she literally overpowered me and and said THIS is my fucking show alright and these are my friends 🤣🤣🤣 #but anyway yeah so maddi’s mom was thickums too ya know but not like this heheheh I also think it’s because she does go work out with Rafa #yep they are a gym couple #but yeah damn I get it Rafa XD I get it #plus you are a ass man #but you also get the tiddies tooo #you are lucky you fucker and you are being a fuckhead #I wish I was just writing story but no this motherfucker while I played him was just tenseeeeeee #all the time #stressed #than he got the fear of being cheated on and I was just not having it #so him in story was truth for the most part atleast my interpretation of it XD #Kay bye thanks for coming to my ted talk in my tags

[the-angel-of-the-bottomless-pit]

(<- wants so bad to be a half-naked animalman running through the wasteland desert with a pack of mutated coyotes, donning a 'disguise' to slip his way into The Strip to try to pickpocket and snap up anything interesting/edible he can find.)

speaking of wastelander. so in my head the fuckhead im running around as is a young man who probably grew up in one of the fuckyier towns with no sort of Looming Overlord for 'protection'

Learned (got the animal friend trait real young) it was safer out in the wastes than it actually was in town with the raiders and the rare legion member that roamed off (only happened once or twice and they got killed because god forbid those fuckers get to report back that there's people in this town and they have a LOTTERY.)

anyway. the bark scorpions aren't too bad. He's heard of ones LOT bigger in other parts, so he's grateful they are what they are. they don't bother him none unless he accidentally scares one of gets too close to a nest. one got him once and. he ain't ever making that mistake again.. even if now there's a little bit of a slur to the way he talks and he's a little more uncoordinated. (he does better when he's got mentats but it's a cycle of >woozy and uncoordinated > takes chems to feel better and functions better for a while > feels like shit again > both goes into withdraws and typical level of woozy) (will also take med-x's if given the chance, and a safe place to hide out while he's too fucked up to be able to defend himself from crazy wasteland shit)

Being from a town that doesn't have a lot going for it and isn't a target for trade routes he's adapted in some.. unconventional ways (cannibalism). This is of course, kept quiet. Even in a rougher settlement they don't look on cannibalism too kindly, especially if they already consider you A Weird One. He snags out-of-towners only, usually catching them before they even reach sight of town because he's already out on the desert in the night.

Not good with a gun but he carries a revolver strapped to his thigh, under his pants. His main weapons are a cleaver, a knife, and a tire iron.

has both Lady Killer and Confirmed Bachelor perk (aka my man's bisexual, good for him)

Usually sporting a old cowboy hat and some sunglasses, and a mix of leather clothes and some stuff he nicked off some raiders (don't ask how he got it. It was a long night and raiders don't smell good.)

If he sees you and isn't Needing for food, he's more likely to run off the minute he sees you from a distance. If you want to talk to him for some reason you'll have to get lucky and catch him at the right time.

#barking and foaming at the mouth

[lonely-lost-soul]

Tis' But a Flesh Wound

(Platonic!Tommyinit x Reader)

Request 8: AlrightY now that I have said that I’m here to humbly request a Tommy (PLATONIC OFC 🔫) hc or drabble or whatever of like Reader getting very badly hurt and just Tommy like getting the hell scared out of him and being kinda protective over the thing??? Like reader is like “ah yea, don’t worry, it’s just a Lil wound” and Tommy is like “WHAT THE FUCK”

Requested By: Anonymous

You knew Tommy was coming before he even entered the building you were in, you could practically hear his yelling from halfway across the SMP. You felt bad for the messenger, who just so happened to be Ranboo. They already didn’t have the best relationship in the world so this probably only served to damage their friendship. Aside from Tubbo and Ranboo, you seemed to be the one person who actually considered Tommy a friend. You weren’t the only one who felt that connection, you were the only person Tommy really trusted besides Tubbo, he’d protect you with his life. When the teenager first heard the news he started laughing, thinking you were a complete idiot for getting hurt in the first place, however, the moment Tommy heard Dream was responsible the smile was wiped off his face. You were lucky you survived the run-in with the demon, but deep down you know he only hurt you to spite Tommy.

He rushed into your room a frantic look on his face, “You stupid bitch what the fuck did you do?”

Half of your head was wrapped in bandages and your entire arm was wrapped in a tight hand-made sling. “Nice to see you too fuckhead, very warm welcome. I’m doing great by the way.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He shrieked rocking on his heels very clearly trying not to touch your wounds and check them out himself. The both of you stared at each other for a moment before he huffed softly, Tommy rubbed the back of his neck before speaking up, “You alright?”

He watched your face soften a little, “I’m alright. Tubbo patched me up good, he stepped out to go collect more healing potions.” You used your good hand to give him a thumbs up. Tommy winced a little seeing the bruising that even littered your good arm as well as, he’d kick Dream’s green ass.

“What caused the green bastard to kick your ass exactly?”

“Didn’t Ranboo tell you?”

“Fuck no I ran away from him. He’s freaky as fuck.” You frowned and he narrowed his eyes, “He is!”

“He’s my friend.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s mine bitch.”

“Whatever,” You rolled your eyes leaning back against the pillow on your bed, Tommy sat down beside you. “I may or may not have tried to challenge him to a duel to try and win one of your discs back. I was hoping to get Mellohi because we liked listening to it together-”

“You WHAT!” He interrupted with a shriek his eyes blown wide, “You really are the dumbest person I know holy shit!” Tommy narrowed his eyes at you and you refused to look at him, he grabbed your cheeks forcing you to look at him. “Why would you ever think challenging Dream for me was a good idea?” He asked confused his heartbeat rapidly in his chest.

Was this what someone being genuinely kind to him felt like? He hated it, absolutely not worth it.

Tommy hesitated watching your eyes become slightly wet, almost worse than feeling affection was having to deal with others crying. “I just am so sick of everyone treating you like you don’t matter! You do matter and your feelings matter! People shouldn’t just take your shit and hold it against you for no reason, we’re fucking kids man!” You choked covering your mouth with your good hand, your chest began to rapidly rise and fall. Tommy knew enough to know what a panic attack looked like. “We don’t deserve this! I just want to go have fun and make mistakes and not fucking worry about someone banishing us because of it!” Tears began to roll down your cheeks at this point, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself, “Why is everyone here so fucking horrible?” Tommy’s eyebrows shot up onto his forehead and he stiffly wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He felt you tense a little but didn’t remove his arms, eventually, you melted in them and hugged him back just as tightly. You murmured a soft, “thanks, Big T.” Tommy grumbled in response,

“That’s enough mushy shit got it. I…” Tommy looked around rapidly for a moment before whispering, “you’re right. shit isn’t fair. But the fact is we can’t change it, only do our best to fight against it.” He sighed softly, “but I don’t want you fucking fighting Dream for me. That’s my battle and I’m going to be the one to kill the fucker got that?” Tommy narrowed his eyes at you and you laughed weakly.

“Got it, Big T. Trust me. I’m staying far away from him from now on.”

“Good.” He flicked your forehead causing you to yelp in pain, and him to snicker.

“You have to promise me something in return though,” Tommy stopped his laughter before he raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You can’t go after Dream to defend my honor or whatever.”

“Of course I won’t. I don’t care about you that much. Don’t flatter yourself.”

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, they’re onto me, fuck.’ He watched as you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, he began to sweat nervously and adjusted the bandana around his neck.

“I’m trusting you not to be stupid.”

“I’m Tommy Danger Kraken Innit of course I’m not going to be stupid! I’m never stupid, I leave that to Wilbur and Technoblade. Duh.” He watched your shoulders shake with laughter and he smirked proudly.

“Alright Tommy, you win. I’ll stop questioning you,” You hummed softly leaning the good side of your head against his shoulder. He smiled softly down at you as you closed your eyes, he stayed by your side as you fell into a deep sleep.

Tommy was for sure going to take his revenge on Dream for hurting you one way or another. He’d just have to make sure you never found out about it, that couldn’t be too hard right?

#dreamsmp x you #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #platonic #platonic tommyinnit x reader #platonic tommyinit #minecraft x reader #x reader #x you #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #platonic x reader #freindship #platonic relationships

[consumedkings-archive]

ii. damage done & damage made ✤ roman sionis/varya astakhova

words: 2.2k

summary: thanks to @starcrier​ for entertaining my daydreams about my favorite murder duo, we now have a oneshot that literally no one asked for: roman and varya, and their babies, in a tea shop. living their perfect crime lives. that’s all.

rating: m for Adult Language and threats of face-tearing

warnings: the aforementioned face-tearing, roman’s mouth (per usual), domestic murder family. babies being cute.

Mark liked his job, a lot. Working a tea shop felt like a step up from the typical entry-level customer service job, and he got a huge discount on all of the products—not to mention, flexible hours while he was balancing school and needing to pay rent, and premium people-watching. Some days, like today, the card machine acted up and he had to ask customers to put their card numbers in manually, but most of them were understanding. All-in-all: he felt pretty lucky.

So when a young couple wandered into the shop one afternoon, it felt like any other kind of afternoon for him. They matched the usual demographic that liked to stop there; well-dressed, usually a little more upper class given the neighborhood. The woman—small and slender, balancing a stylishly dressed infant on her hip—smiled at him charmingly while the man redirected a two-seat stroller to an area less clustered by shelves, slowly rocking it back and forth.

“Good afternoon!” Mark greeted as the woman approached, keeping his voice softer in case the man was trying to rock another infant to sleep. “Can I help you find anything today?”

“Hello! Yes, well—admittedly, I am not as well-versed in teas as I would like to be,” the brunette said sweetly, a little sheepish. The infant babbled happily and clutched the pendant of her necklace in his fingers.

Mark offered her a smile. “No worries. What kinds of flavors do you like? I have quite a few—”

“Varya,” the man said from where he had been pushing the stroller back and forth, “do you have my phone? I need to make a call.”

“Oh, yes. One moment.” She fished a sleek, dark phone from her purse, passing it to the man before turning her eyes back to Mark. The man, presumably her husband, dialed a number and balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder before the call connected and he started talking—his voice low so that Mark could barely hear him over Varya’s attentions. He had gloves on; black, leather, embossed with something in gold; maybe his initials?

Varya said lightly, “Flavors?”

He flushed, quickly diverting his eyes. “Yes, right. Your favorite flavors?”

“Hm. I prefer spiced teas,” she began, eyes scanning the shelves. “My mother used to make a tea with cloves and cinnamon, do you have anything like that?”

“Certainly,” Mark replied brightly. He turned back to the shelves, humming for a moment. She had had a bit of an accent; it sounded Russian, but it was so slight he couldn’t quite be sure. There were plenty of tourists and sightseers coming in and out of the shop that he’d gotten used to skimming for quick details, like accents or nice clothes or expensive jewelry. And if the gigantic rock on the woman’s finger was any indication, they were hitting all of the boxes for the people that usually walked into a boutique tea shop.

Pulling one of the jars off of the shelf, Mark pulled the cap and offered it to her to smell. “This one’s got cinnamon and cloves, but ginger and cardamom, too. I really like to make it with—”

“No, no, no, no,” her husband bit out into the phone, the stroller rolling to a stop as he stilled his attempts at keeping the baby asleep, “you listen to me, you pint-sized fuckhead, when I tell—”

Varya, completely unbothered by her husband’s vicious tone, shifted the infant to her other hip, smelling the looseleaf mixture again. “It smells so good. I think it is the ginger that makes it good. What did you say you like to make it with?”

“Um,” Mark said, trying not to stare at the man in the velvet suit saying, and I’m going to cut your fucking face off, you piece of shit, did you know that? Do you know who I am? That’s right, and I can do whatever I fucking want, and that means cutting your dumb fucking face off and putting it on display in my loft for my dinner guests, “cream?”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” she murmured idly, reading through the list of ingredients again. “Do you have those little—” She gestured with her free hand. “—to steep the mixture with?”

“Y—” Mark swallowed. His gaze flickered back to the glossy brunette, her lips pouted and the baby nestled against her neck, seemingly putting himself to sleep despite the noise. “Yes, of course. Do you prefer the, um...”

“In English, you fucker,” Roman seethed into the phone, “your—yeah, well, your boss is American, I don’t care where you were born. So tell me in English how many fucking guns are being held up in bumfuck-nowhere-Russia, you—”

“This one is nice,” Varya interjected gently, picking up one of the steel ones. “I like the ones that have a finer mesh. Less chance of getting the debris in there, you know?”

He was trying to remember when the last time he’d taken a breath was. It very suddenly all made too much sense—well-dressed couple, twins, the embossed gloves and the accent and oh my God, oh fuck, oh fucking God oh shit oh fuck I have Roman Fucking Sionis and his Russian gun lord wife in the tea shop I’m going to fucking die—

“Mark?” she prompted. The dulcet tone of her voice broke him out of the panic running through his brain. Unfortunately, the sound of her saying his first name only firmly cemented in his brain the fact that he was now assisting the wife of Gotham’s biggest crime lord in picking out a looseleaf tea.

He swallowed thickly. “H—How, um, did you know my name?”

Varya tilted her head inquisitively. “Your nametag, my love.”

“Oh,” he replied, letting out a nervous laugh. “Of course. Um. Right, those do have a finer mesh. I like them better too. It’s similar t-to the um—the kind of mesh you would—you would have in the teapot. You know. If you were going to do it by the pot. And not the cup. Like for more than one cup of tea.”

A smile ticked the corner of her lips upward. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she was enjoying his apparent discomfort. “I do like to make more than one cup of tea, on occasion. Do you sell teapots? Can I see those?”

Mark opened his mouth to say that of course, she could see the teapots—did she want his? His personal teapot? He could run home and grab it if she wanted, please don’t shoot me in the face—when the stilling of the stroller’s movements seemed to have distressed the other twin. As soon as she started fussing, Roman threw his free hand up in exasperation.

“Do you hear that, Maxim?” he demanded. “That’s my daughter, crying, because I was so fucking fed up with your idiocy that I stopped rocking her to sleep. What? Do I want to—no, I don’t want your mother’s fucking aromatic recipe for putting infants to sleep, I’m already in a fucking tea shop!”

Varya let out a little sigh. “Excuse me one moment, Mark.”

“Sure,” Mark replied, scratching his forehead. “Sure, no worries, take—um, take your time.”

She swept away from him, returning the happy infant to the stroller and pulling from it the fussy one, bouncing the baby a few times before she said, “Romy, you know Yuli only likes when you bounce her. Trade me.”

Mark watched as Roman’s mouth downturned in a firm frown; he eventually acquiesced, taking the crying baby and offering the phone to Varya, who planted the phone against her ear and pushed the double stroller outside and into fresh air, taking with her the conversation which quickly shifted into a foreign language. For what it was worth, as soon as the little girl was in Roman’s arms, she almost immediately stopped fussing—though he did bounce her and make his way over to Mark, brows furrowed despite his daughter’s happy babbling.

“What one did she like?” he asked, less silken than his better half.

“What?”

“The tea,” Roman answered, squinting. “What tea did she like?”

“Uh,” Mark said, “the—uh, this one. Sir.” He held out the jar, but Roman waved his hand in dismissal.

“Pack some of that up. And the—whatever the fuck this is,” he added, gesturing at the steeper. “That too.”

Mark pulled one of the bags out from the drawer, working quickly despite the tremble in his hands. “Just the steeper? Sir?”

Roman had turned his attention back to the curly-haired baby, waving a gloved finger in her vision to keep her occupied, when Mark had posed his question. “What? Speak up, I’ve got a chatty infant here.”

“She—she wanted to look at the teapots, too.” Mark packed the looseleaf tea into the bag. The scale remained untouched. The idea of taking the time to weigh the tea and charge appropriately had completely fled his mind. “S—Sir.”

“Huh.” Roman squinted at the wall of teapots, seeming to deliberate for a moment. “We’ll take that one. The black and gold. And the steeper, and the tea.”

“Sure. For sure. Good choice. That’s my favorite one,” he added, realizing somewhere in his brain that he was babbling but that he couldn’t stop. “It’s hand-made, so it has—um, it has like...Little flaws, that make it worth a lot, because it was made by a famous—”

Varya returned to the shop, phone tucked away and only their doe-eyed son in her arms again. She gave Roman’s shoulder a squeeze with her free hand and then turned her attention to Mark, smiling prettily. “That’s the one he picked out?”

Mark nodded, hesitated midway through packing the pot. “Yes. Do you like it? Did you want a different one? I have some new ones in the back—”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him. She looked at Roman, glowing, and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love it.”

The blonde looked pleased. “Yes, well, who knows you better than me?” And then: “What did Kuznetsov tell you?”

Hurrying through the packing, Mark managed to get everything rang up amidst the couple’s idle chatter—which consisted of Varya explaining that ten thousand guns were held up in Kazakhstan, which was not Russia, but used to be part of Russia, at which point Roman waved his hand and went ‘whatever’—and ran the man’s heavy, black card through the card machine.

The machine beeped three times in alarm, and Mark felt his stomach plummet. The fucking machine’s broken, he remembered, with despair. Oh my God, oh my God, I’m going to fucking—

“What?” Roman barked out. “What is it?”

“The—the um, the machine is—I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “The machine is broken and I h-have to have you—put in the card number manually—”

The man made the most indignant sound, but before he could attempt to get fired up all over again, Varya said, “Romy, why don’t you load the twins up in the car? Armazd already put the stroller away. I’ll finish up here.”

Roman’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and then he said, “Alright, V,” and accepted the second infant into his other arm, toting them both outside. Varya looked at Mark and smiled sympathetically, holding out her hand for the machine; Mark handed it over, absently pulling at a loose thread on his apron as she started carefully inputting the card number.

“Do you have children, Mark?” she asked conversationally. “A partner?”

“Uh,” he replied very intelligently. “N-No. No ma’am. I mean, miss. No, I don’t have either of those, miss.”

“It is definitely a life change,” she said by way of agreement, pocketing the card and waiting for the machine to process. “Suddenly, your hands are full all the time.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up out of him, and he nodded his head; the seconds ticked by, agonizing as Varya hummed and gathered up the bag until it finally beeped its approval of the transaction.

“Thank you, my darling!” she called over her shoulder. “I am sure I will be back.”

“Welcome,” he replied weakly. He watched her make her way to the door, nearly out; it wasn’t until his shoulders slumped in a bit of relief that she stopped and turned to look at him, a sly little smile on her face.

“Before I forget,” Varya began, “perhaps, if you find yourself thinking about any of the conversation you heard today—you know, about business—it is best to keep it to yourself. It is not particularly confidential, you see, but...Well, I would just hate to feel like I could not bring my business back here because I cannot trust you.”

An unpleasant little chill sprinted down his spine. He shifted on his feet, wetting his lips for a moment as he tried to figure out what it was he wanted to say; how many times could he swear up and down that nothing he heard today about guns or Kazakhstan to assure her that she wouldn’t have to worry about it? That he would literally rather put pencil shavings in his eyes than put the Sionis target on his back?

“Mark,” she said, “all you have to say is that you understand.”

“I do,” he blurted out quickly, “I do understand.”

She smiled brightly. “I knew you were a good boy. Have a lovely afternoon!”

Just like that, she swept out of the shop; he was finally alone. Mark slumped into his chair, passing a hand over his face for a moment—long enough for him to sit up, press his face into the palms of his hands, and say:

“I have to quit my job.”

#my writing #otp: this smile is a loaded gun #roman sionis x original female character #birds of prey oc #roman sionis/original female character #bop oc #birds of prey fic #bop fic #i went to one (1) tea shop yesterday and now this has lived rent free in my brain #thanks to star for some reason putting up with this absolute nonsense #ch: varya astakhova #ch: roman sionis #ugh #i just miss......They #my children

[crzcorgi]

Negan’s Sunshine

Hope you like this anon!

Negan x Female Reader

Under a cut due to length ~ 1900 words

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Jesus, what day is it?! I woke up, seeing it was another cloudy fucking day and just wanted to sleep it away. But that is not a luxury I have. Being the head of the Sanctuary I was “on duty” 24/7. 

  I slipped my legs out from under the sheets, making a hissing sound as my feet hit the cold wooden floor. I stood up, hearing my joints crack. Aging ain’t for the fucking weak, I mumbled to myself. 

  Grabbing my clothes from the bench at the end of my bed I headed into the bathroom to take a hopefully warm shower if it wasn’t all fucking used up by the time I got to it. 

  After my lukewarm shower, gotta institute shorter shower times, I quickly dressed, heading back into my bedroom.

       “Negan! I thought I’d lost you!”  

  I glanced over to the bed, seeing Tanya, Tonya, wife #4 (?) sitting up, her tits exposed and jutting forward, purposely. Jesus. 

  “Not lost, but I fucking will be. Gotta go doll, see yourself out.” I headed around the bed, grabbing my sweet Lucille from her place of honor by the door. 

  “Negan you forgot something!” I sighed, turning to see what’s her name spread out, her naked body fully on display. 

  I walked towards the bed, stopping, smiling at her, then I leant down, grabbing my boots. “Shit sweetheart, I’d look pretty fucking foolish without shoes on, thanks!” Laughing I walked out of the room, pulling my boots on in the hallway. 

   I headed downstairs, I had a mission. The same thing I did every single day, before anything else. As I made my way into the cafeteria I saw her. She was wiping down tables, her back facing me. But I knew what I’d see if she was turned. The biggest smile, a smile that lit up a room, pretty lips that curled almost up to her breathtaking eyes of y/e/c. Always happy. Like sunlight in a fucking cloudy day. 

  I could see the slight sway of her hips, realizing she must have had the old Walkman on, listening to some old cassette tape she’d saved her points for. I’d offered a few to her but she told me she worked for what she had. And she’d also told me in no uncertain terms that she’d accept nothing from me as she knew what I was after. 

  “Negan, you and I both know why you offer me these, these gifts. They’re  offerings, like birds do. Trying to attract a mate, or in this case, yet another proverbial notch on your bedpost. Just another wife. I won’t do it.”

She’d always lean up and place a delicate chaste kiss on my scruffy cheek. And I’d always leave her, fucking heartbroken. 

  But she was wrong. Yeah, I wanted her, but not like she thought. She wasn’t like any other woman I’d encountered , had. No, she was fucking different and I intended to treat her that way. And today was the day that I would put my plan in motion. 

  After a very fucking uncomfortable meeting with some fucking ingrates, I moved onto the next step in my plan. 

 “Dwighty Boy! Got a fuckity fucking job for ya!” 

  I had time before my whole plan would come to what I hoped would be an amazing conclusion so I decided to take a peek at her, knowing exactly where she’d be. She moved around the Sanctuary, working where the mood hit her. Yeah, I didn’t allow others the freedom I granted her. But she was different, and honestly was more fucking productive than ninety percent of the Sanctuary residents. 

  She was exactly where I thought I’d find her. The sun shining on her silken hair, her arms almost elbow deep in the garden’s dirt. I could see the sweat trickling down the side of the face, a dirty hand absently coming up to swipe at the drops. 

  I wanted to just stay here, watching her, but something always pulled me closer, I needed to be ever in her presence. 

  “Fuck!” I couldn’t help the laugh at hearing her swear. 

  “Listen to that tongue! What’s got you so flustered, princess?” 

  She shielded her eyes, looking up at me. “Spying on me again, Negan, or should I say, perving?”

  I laughed again. “Aww, sunshine , that stings.” I dramatically grabbed my chest. “You know I just wanna be with you, no ulterior motive whatsoever.” 

  She stood up, trying to figure out how to wipe the dirt from her ass, but realizing her hands were covered too. 

  “Need some help?” I grinned down at her. 

  “What do you think, Negan?” She tried to act all fucking indignant, but she couldn’t contain the giggle. And the sweet blush rising through the dirt on her cheek. 

  “I’m guessing, no?” I smiled at her, taking a chance to place a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Have dinner with me?” 

  She tipped her head, her eyes almost shut do to the bright sun. “Negan…”  She let out a sign, shaking her head slightly. 

 “Doll, please just this once. I promise no fucking funny business.” I crossed my fingers, smiling down at her. And hoping. 

  “Okay.”  

  “Just listen sweetheart, give me a… Wait, did you just say yes?”

  “I did, Negan. But don’t think this is going to be a regular occurrence. I’m hungry and my points went to painkillers.” She gave me one of her fucking stunning smiles. “And it wasn’t those damn dimples you’re always flashing at me, just so we’re clear.” Her finger pointed at me, wiggling back and forth. 

  I held my arms up, “I hear ya, darlin’.” I laughed, thinking what a lucky fucker I was that she finally gave in and I wouldn’t have to use potential force to get her to agree. “Now why don’t you go take a shower, put on the outfit that’s waiting on your bed, and Dwight will deliver you to me.” 

  “Negan!”  

  “Now darlin’, you don’t need to keep the outfit, even though it is a gift. But wear it for me, just for tonight?” I took her hands in mine, lightly rubbing. 

  “Jesus Christ, Negan, I swear you’re like a dog with a bone! I’ll wear the outfit, but I swear, if it’s one of your ‘wife uniforms’ or something skimpy, it will NOT go on my body, got it?!” 

  Fuck if she didn’t look all adorable angry. But I valued my steel nutsack and decided to keep that thought to myself. “Got it, sweetheart.”

  We parted ways, my girl going to get ready and me heading to see if my plan was underway. I was nervous as it always fucking seemed nothing went my way. So I was fucking taken back at the results. 

  It was going to work. All of it. 

  After showering and putting on my best pants and shirt, I made my way upstairs. Opening the door and stepping out I was fucking shocked. Those fuckheads had actually done what I asked. And then some. The roof looked like something out of one of those fucking fairy-tale books, twinkling lights, strung up curtains, a table covered in the Sanctuary’s finest foodstuffs. And freaking candles as far as the eye could fucking see. 

  “Negan?” 

  I turned to see her, standing in the doorway, looking just like one of those fairy-tale’s princesses. 

  “You wore it, doll?”

  She stepped closer to me, a slight smile creeping up

  “It’s beautiful, Negan, honestly not at all what I expected.” She looked up at me, an honest to fucking goodness full face smile, all for me. “Thank you.” She then stepped around me, taking in the roof. “Is this all for me?”

  I walked over to her, taking her hand in mine. “No one else deserves all of this.” 

  “I don’t, I don’t understand?” She turned completely to look up at me, an almost hurt look. “Is this some sort of ‘last chance sweetheart! Look at what you’ll be missing!’ thing? Because Negan… I can’t.” 

  I was confused, concerned. “No, fuck no! That’s not it at all darlin’.” I sighed, taking both of her hands and lifting them to my lips, kissing each of them, taking in the smell of her floral soap and scrambling to find the right words. 

  “I gave them up. They’re gone doll. You’re who I want, who I need. You’re my everything, my sunshine.” 

 She was looking down, at our hands intertwined. I was nervous, she made no movement and the silence was deafening. So I could barely make it out when she finally spoke. 

  “Why me Negan? I’m not like them, never was even before the end. I’m just an average girl. I don’t understand?”

  “How the fuck could you ever think you’re average? Darlin’, you are fucking amazing. Amazing. From the minute you marched that fucking fine ass right through the Sanctuary gates, demanding to see the leader, then proceeding to ream my ass out over some shit that went down at your encampment, I was a fucking goner.”

  I pulled her hands tightly to my chest. “I thought I was going to have it easy, have you fucking eatin’ out of my hands. Your group looked like it had seen better days, much better. But you? Fuck no! You laughed in my face, accusing me of operating my own personal brothel, and I should be ashamed of myself. Doll? Do you know what I’ve done to others before you that did less? But you, you made me hard, fucking commin’ in my trousers. Jesus Christ, you had me, from day one.”

  She looked up at me again, this time with damp eyes, her hands coming up to grasp my face. “I never realized you felt this way, Negan, wow.” 

 I leaned into her touch, my eyes involuntarily closing. Had I fucking died? Is this what heaven’s like? Because shit, this felt like home. Opening my eyes, I see that she was still looking at me, her delicate fingers still caressing my skin. 

  I brought a hand up to her face, gently wiping at the fallen tears, she leaned into my hand, like I had done with hers. “I love you, sweet girl, have from day one. I thought I was so obvious, like a foolish teenager.” 

  She giggled, a tiny sniffle escaping. “You hid it well, Negan. I never realized. I just thought you were like that to all the girls.”  I swear I saw a hint of sadness, disappointment, in her eyes. 

  “Never. You, my sweet little lady, got away with shit that others died for. I would have done anything for you, anything you asked. Still would. Anything. Just ask.” 

  She snickered, giving me a sly grin. “Are you sure about that? Anything?”  

 I laughed, knowing where she was heading with this. “Yes, anything.” I was second guessing that response, which must have shown on my face. 

  “I’m teasing you, I won’t abuse my power.” She smiled at me, rising up on her toes, placing a chaste kiss on my now damp cheek. “At least not yet.” She turned away from me, sashaying over to the festive table. 

  My fucking dream came true. My girl was really mine. The only sunshine I’ll ever need.

#jdm takeover #negan #negan x reader #negan x female reader #negan one shot #negan fanfiction #crzcorgi requests #jeffrey dean morgan #crzcorgi crz 4 negan

[jojo-reader-hell]

if requests are open,,,,,,, Blease,,, I need formaggio as an older brother to a little sister who's 17 and almost as fucking chaotic as he is,,,,,,, I'm DIE

YAAAAAAAAAS FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m living for all of us wanting big brothers! And I love stinky cheese man, so I hope you enjoy this little thing I had on my mind whilst doing the dishes at work!

...

Formaggio was lucky...

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!”

Crying echoed throughout the streets of Napoli. If he hadn’t decided on a whim to take the alley, he would have been too late.

“Shut your yap whore!”

He was running. The crying was getting louder. Nearly tripping over his own feet. He could hear the screams, they were yours. There was no mistaking that voice. Hothead that you were, you wanted more than anything to escape the hellhole that was the family home, even if it meant joining him in his life of debauchery. You’d used that exact word. Like he simply picked pockets on Sundays.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!”

It wasn’t easy to keep you away. After he stopped sending letters he thought you would give up. You used to follow him, screaming and carrying on in a fit when he finally had to drag you back home, could still feel the pain on his knees where you would kick at him. Of course being your big brother, Formaggio could easily outrun you if need be. Yet that didn’t make it any easier. He still died inside any time he had to go. It was easier to be a check in the mail for you to cash, that way your parents wouldn’t drink up the money. As much as he wanted to save you from that den of squalor he knew there wasn’t any way they’d let a teenage girl without a Stand into Passione. There was no work to be had for a young lady... well, that was a lie. There was always work in the mafia for everyone.

But he could never do that to you. Couldn’t live with himself if he allowed them to dress you in the shortest dress they could find, painting you like a clown with ruby lipstick and purple eyeshadow, eventually auctioning you off to the oldest and horniest creepy bastard that would inevitably be the highest bidder. Seventeen year olds could yield a pretty price in Passione...

“I promise not to hurt you if you stop screaming~...”

“GET OFF! LIKE YOU’LL HURT ME WITH THAT NEEDLE DICK!”

“... what the fuck did you just tell me?!”

Formaggio heard the contact of a hand on skin, heard you yelp, the crumple of your body hitting the pavement. And the crying... That mother fucker who got you wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. Whoever it was, he was going to kill him. Cut his balls off and shove them down his throat for touching his baby sister. Yet as much as he was keyed up to make a kill, he found himself freezing when he saw the pink aura surrounding you. Your mouth was closed, you weren’t the one crying like a baby.

“I SAID YOU HAVE A NEEDLE DICK! YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT AGAIN?! I WILL!”

“You’re going to regret this you slut-!”

“NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK NEEDLE DICK-!”

You screamed like a five year old throwing a tantrum, the crying turning into a shrill scream that made Formaggio clap his hands over his ears. Through the caterwauling he could hear another’s screams joining that of the Stand that was howling over your hunched form. The one that had been trying to take your innocence had blood soaking through the front of his pants, cupping his crotch and screaming in agony as you chanted your childish insults at him, the Stand holding out her hands in front of her and echoing his screams.

“GO THE FUCK AWAY!”

He had to have gone deaf temporarily, it seemed like it would never stop, until you stood and threw your hands forward and sent the bastard flying. Eventually the Stand’s screams died down, breaking from a banshee’s shrieks to shallow gasps for breath. Like she’d run a marathon...

“Oh god dammit!” You growled at her, “You’re going to be alright!”

You snapped your head around when your brother called your name, screaming for him as the Stand crumpled in a heap on the dirty street.

“You FUCKHEAD!” You whined, tackling Formaggio.

“Stupida!” He screamed back at you, “What the fuck are you doing here huh?! You trying to get yourself killed?! You could have been somebody’s bitch if I hadn’t been walking this way! You fucking retarded?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Stupida! STUPIDA!”

You both began slapping and punching at one another, your brother choking up as he demanded answers. You were so stupid... he could have lost you forever... you could have been hurt... he would have never... ever... EVER forgiven himself...

A sniffle breaks up the tearful reunion. He’d forgotten about the Stand that had protected you, and now that he was able to focus and get a better look, he noticed she seemed oddly familiar to him. Rather small, looked like a porcelain doll with long bangs covering the top of her face, only leaving her plump lips exposed as she bit them. She wrung her hands, making a clacking noise as her long two toned hair shook back and forth.

“What the fuck...” he muttered under his breath.

“I don’t know where she came from or who she is...” you insisted, “But she keeps following me and she won’t leave me alone... can ghosts interact with people?? She... she’s been helping me find you.”

“Uuuughuuu... ughhwaa...”

Her voice was strangely garbled, like she was being drowned under water. Now that he got a good look at you, he noticed your eyes didn’t mirror his own anymore. The pupils were enlarging, beginning to take over the iris and sclera as the Stand kept wringing her hands.

“Stop it Cry Baby!” You cried. “You’re alright! They didn’t even hit you, I’m the one that got punched!”

You rubbed an angry spot on your cheek, making yourself and the Stand, Cry Baby, flinch. She hiccuped, saliva running down her lips as your eyes began to water.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warned.

“Uuuughwaaah... Waaah... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Her howling before was nothing compared to this, and evidently she had complete control over your emotions as well. You started in on the water works like Formaggio had never seen before, hiccuping and wailing as though you were an infant. He couldn’t do much to help... it was all too much... it was hard feeling so helpless...

“WAAAAAAAAAUGH!!! AAAAAAAUGH!! Mmmm.... Mwuuuugh??”

Cry Baby stopped just as suddenly as she started. It had to have been instinct... There was no other way... no other explanation for Little Feet to be rocking the Stand in his arms, nuzzling Cry Baby as her screaming began to die down, your tears drying up with hers as she stuck a thumb in her mouth, whimpering and letting herself be rocked gently back and fourth, back and fourth.

There was no place for a teenage girl in Passione, but maybe... Formaggio thought, just maybe, there might be room for a Stand User with an ability such as this.

#formaggio #formaggio x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure vento aureo #la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #reader is a stand user #cry baby #melanie martinez #jjba stands #little feet #jjba #jjba va #jjba x reader #jjba stand oc #stand oc

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Ten CCs of Sass || Ricky and Kaden

TIMING: A few days after Ricky took on an asanbosam and after Kaden’s mime stabbing PARTIES: @ricky-corderbro and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY:  Best roommates ever.

Kaden was starting to lose track of time in this stupid place. It was hard to know when was what when there were no windows in the room and time seemed to move at a snail’s pace. But he was pretty sure he remembered the layout of the room. And this was not it. Everything was similar but slightly off somehow. “Regan?” he asked, knowing full well he didn’t see her or Blanche or anyone else babysitting him at the moment. Maybe he hoped they would pop up around a corner or something. Still, no answer. But there was a fucking curtain halfway open and another patient on the other side. Putain de merde, just when he thought this fucking hell pit couldn’t get any worse. They must have moved his fucking bed in the night and now he had a goddamn roommate. And better yet, his IVs were taped down so thoroughly to his arm, he was pretty sure getting them off was going to take a solid ten minutes and take off hair and maybe even a little skin. He was thoroughly stuck. Fuck.

All in all it had not been Ricky’s favorite week. While thankfully they’d put him under for the harrowing process of putting his ribs back together and removing a portion of one of them from his lung, the pain afterwards had been almost enough to make him wish the asanbosam had finished him off. Sleep had been an elusive target, and it was only after a nurse had come in and given him something to knock him out that he’d managed a couple of hours. Waking up though, had brought a resurgence of pain everytime his heart beat and he took a breath, and it wasn’t until he heard a voice asking for someone named Regan that he realized how fucked his day was truly about to get. He recognized that voice, even if the last time he’d heard it they’d been on a rickety boat arguing about saving lives. He also knew that that voice was attached to someone he’d promised to try to kill, even if he was in no position to actually take action on the threat, “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.” he rasped out, voice still not up to par, “Did I actually die? I must have. This has to be fucking hell if I’m stuck here with you”

Kaden’s brows knit together. Something about that voice sounded vaguely familiar. He turned to get a better look at his new roommate. “Putain.” He groaned. It was the fucking do gooder lifegarud boy who was probably some kind of monster. Or knew a few. Of fucking course they ended up in the same room at the same time. What a cherry on top of being stabbed by a mime a few times the other day. “You’re right about one thing, this is fucking hell.” Kaden wanted to throw something but there was nothing but the pillow in reach to toss and, uh, he didn’t want to have to call a nurse to come pick it up off the floor. “The hell happened to you, anyway? Have a run in with a perfectly innocent supernatural monster? Or did your dudley do-right routine finally screw you over?”

Through the haze of pain and pain meds Ricky could feel Kaden’s voice grating on his every nerve, “Jesus fucking christ. Of course it’s fucking you” He attempted to push himself slightly more upright and was rewarding with a white hot pain shooting through his chest, “God. Do you ever tire of the sound of your own fucking voice? I will reach into my chest, pull out one of the many fragments of ribs floating around in there, and stab you in the fucking eye with it if it’s going to net me a reprieve from your sanctimonious bullshit.” He resigned himself to staying laying down and sighed, “You know, fuckhead mcfuckstick, there are those of us capable of distinguishing between an animalistic monster that lacks sentience, and a perfectly harmless member of the supernatural community. I’m sorry you somehow failed Humanity 101”

This little shit really thought he talked too much? Kaden scoffed. “You should ask yourself that. I’m not the one ranting over there.” He started picking at the tape on his arm as the kid ranted the same bullshit grumbling he’d heard a million times before. More colorful than most, he’d give him that, but more of the same. “Fuckhead mcfuckstick, that’s a new one.” He shrugged and continued to try and peel the tape away so he could try and leave before things got any worse. “So how’d that distinguishing go for you? Broken ribs, you said? Sounds like you had a really wonderful encounter.”

“It seemed fitting, given that you are both a fuckhead, and a fuckstick, and I’m Irish so we add Mc to everything.” Ricky rolled his eyes and managed to find the controller for his bed, raising himself so he was sitting upright, “Well it went great. Since I very clearly distinguished that an asanbosam is not a contributing member of society and is instead an animalistic hunter. But these were things I knew before. But you know something about being an animalistic hunter don’t you?” His breath came short for a few moments and he stopped talking, breathing as deeply as he could and balling his fists to try to work through the pain, “We were ambushed. Broken ribs, punctured lung. But I lived so, that’s something. They’re not great ones to run into.”

Irish. Noted. Kaden was sure he’d have plenty of time to figure out what kind of monster he was sharing a room with. Unfortunately. “Asanbosam? Too bad no one was around to stake it. If only there had been an animalistic hunter nearby. Guess they were all at home.” Or stuck in a fucking hospital. “That or no one thought you were particularly worth saving. Shame, you clearly handled it so well on your own.” Still, sounded like the kid had it worse over there than he did. “You got lucky. Even with all that.” Not that he was glad he was okay. That wasn’t his concern at all. “Ran into one of those the other week, seem to be out in force with all the eternal darkness shit going on. Almost stole someone up into the trees.”

“I managed just fine. No deaths, so, that’s a win. It’s currently somewhere in the forest trying desperately to get the rosary I knotted around it’s ankle free. They’re particularly averse to religious iconography.” While most children had a childhood full of nursery rhymes, a solid portion of Ricky’s home education had been the various varieties of vampire that would inevitably try to attack him; he knew a fair few of them by heart. “Ah yes, there’s that good old Hunter “judge, jury, and executioner” mentality that we all know and love so much. Good to know whatever didn’t do a good enough job of killing you left you up on your high horse.” Ricky reached for his phone on the bedside table, scrolling through several texts in all capital letters before deciding that was a problem for later in the afternoon, “I always hated the idea of those fuckers.” He muttered, trying to find a more comfortable position that didn’t put pressure on, well, anything. “Iron teeth. Prehensile tail. They’re straight out of some dnd dungeon master’s nightmare. What the hell is a west African vampire doing in Maine, though?”

“Oh are they? Wow, gee, I never fucking knew that. Slayed my first vampire at age ten but wow, thanks for that riveting new information. Where would I be without you?” Kaden rolled his eyes. He just told the guy he’d encountered an asanbosam the other week, so he would’ve thought he wouldn’t go and explain the obvious to him but guess he was wrong. “Yeah well, sorry to disappoint you by my survival. But if you tell me where that fucking thing was I can probalby deal with once I’m out of here. Or get someone else to. You know, if you can lower yourself off that pedastool to cooperate with an animalistic hunter for two fucking minutes.” This was going to be a long goddamn day. God help him if was two. He wasn’t sure he could survive that. The tape on his arm must have been something akin to duct tape because it wasn’t budging. At this point he wasn’t sure he cared if Regan insisted he stayed the full two plus days. No way would he last that long. “They’re a pain in the ass. Species origin doesn’t really seem to be a barrier to entry in White Crest. I mean, for fuck sakes, the sky’s been dark for a few solid weeks now and you’re questioning how an African vampire got here? This place is fucking weird.”

Kaden’s abrasive voice was honestly on par with the subtle grinding and shifting of his ribs that he could still feel every time he breathed, “God. It just so fucking shocking to me that you’re top of seemingly everybody’s ‘kill him becore he kills us’ list. People skills like yours you should be in public relations. As to the where would you be? Fish food. We’ve gone over this. You’d be fish food.” Ricky let talk of killing a roommate fall silent as a nurse came in to administer meds and bring up his breakfast tray… which was seemingly full of things he didn’t want or couldn’t really eat. One insipid slice of ham seemed to be about the only thing he trusted, and he quickly ate it, keeping his face turned away from Kaden so there were no erstwhile glimpses of fangs, before pushing the tray and the rolling table away, “I don’t want the rest of that, if you’re feeling extra peckish.” He could feel the gentle wave of pain meds crashing on the beach of his mind and pulled his phone towards him, tapping out replies to texts as he listened to Kaden prattle on in the singularly sanctimonious way that he seemed to have cornered the fucking market on, “Yeah as long as there’s a fucking tree vamp wandering the forests near my home attacking members of my community I’m going to fucking question it. But in answer to the question that was sandwiched between the insults… it was the forests to the north of the Docks, bout half a mile before the bridge to Harris Island. It felled a tree right in front of my truck, blocked the road.”

“Yeah, yeah. And I thanked you already, alright.” Kaden bristled at the reminder that he was somewhat in debt to the other man for saving his life. Fucking hated that. Normally he made it easy enough for him to push that aside but then it would rear its ugly head. Still, he noted where that vampire was last seen; he’d be sure to kill it once he was out of there. Not long after, a second nurse came in to give Kaden his tray full of what he assumed was awful lumps of sadness pretending to be food. He wasn’t wrong. The food looked awful, alright, but that wasn’t what his eyes were focused on. No, his eyes went straight to the black and white striped shirt folded neatly with a beret on top and the red blood stains seeped into it. His eyes grew wide with confusion and his pulse picked up as he looked at the nurse. She gave absolutely no indication that anything was out of the ordinary and simply smiled and asked if there was anything else he needed. Kaden was stunned for a moment but it didn’t take long for him to flip the try, tossing it away from him the way someone might flick away a bug that had crawled onto them. He tried to quell the panic that was rising up in him. The nurse just looked confused, not like she was going to kill him on the spot. Which was good, but honestly he still wished he had a weapon in hand. Then she shook her head and looked around like she was unsure of what room she was in or what hat just happened. “Did I do that?” she asked, looking at the try and bending down to pick it up. “I’m sorry, I’ll bring you another tray. Is that your shirt?” Kaden shook his head. “Uh, no. Not-- No, that’s not my shirt. And you didn’t-- Sorry, I lost control of the…” He wanted to run more than ever, his hand reaching for the metal stand where the bags of fluids were hanging. It’d be a decent blunt weapon in a pinch. “Oh, that’s alright. I’ll be right back,” the nurse said, all the fallen food and tray in hand and left with a smile, like nothing ever happened. “Putain de merde, what the actual fuck?”

“It’s really hard to take the thanks seriously when it’s always tied to some sort of insane purge-and-purify human-centric rhetoric. Really sort of dulls the shine on that particular compliment.” He’d been focused on his phone and not on the speciesist fuck in the bed next to him when there was suddenly a ruckus that made him snap his head over to look at that side of the room. “What the absolute fuck you lunatic?” Ricky was so taken aback by the scene that he attempted to push himself out of bed to help clean it up, before bolts of white hot pain reminded him why he didn’t do that, “oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck oh fuck.” The nurse’s response to the whole ordeal was what really made him narrow his eyes, “What…. What the fuck is happening over there.” A tiny spot of red appeared on the bandage around his chest and started to grow fractionally, “Well that’s not good. But… that wasn’t normal. What the fuck landed you in here? I mean I had just assumed it was something along the lines of “finally got what was coming to him” but that was fucking weird.”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s--” he started. Kaden’s eyes darted back and forth between where the tray had just fallen and the door. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to slow his breath, bring his pulse back to normal. He let out a deep sigh, trying to rationalize that nothing else was coming in, no one else was there, it was probably safe. But Regan wasn’t back yet. What if something happened to her? Fuck. “Uh, shit. Don’t fucking laugh,” he told his current rommate as he rubbed his palms against the sheets, trying to dry the sweat off them. “I’m here cause I got stabbed by a fucking mime.” He thought about hitting the call button, get another nurse in here. But what if that didn’t help? What if that’s what brought another possessed person to send him more warnings and threats? Shit. He was more or less defenseless if someone came back for him. This is why he fucking hated hosptials (among all the other reasons). “So yeah, that striped shirt, it, uh-- Fuck.” He felt like such a paranoid idiot.

Ricky didn’t really think of himself as a cruel man. He tried to do right by his friends and his neighbors, be a good upstanding member of the community, and generally behave in a way that would make his mother proud of him; since she was his metric for what a good person should be. But the minute Kaden a) told him not to laugh and b) mentioned he’d gotten stabbed by a fucking mime, Ricky knew he was in a losing battle where all of his attempts to be good were going to falter in the face of a chance to ridicule his enemy. The laugh bubbled up inside of him and the piercing pain in his chest battled for dominance but he couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter, shaking slightly in his bed, “Oh god…. Oh my fucking god…. I”m sorry I’m sorry… did you… did you… the great fucking hunter… bane of the supernatural… did you fucking get put in the hospital by a goddamn mime?!” His laugh turned into a painful cough and he bit down abruptly, a fang piercing his lip “ow fuck.” The laughter died down and he shook his head, “Ahh it feels good and at the same time fucking terrible to laugh. How… how did you manage to get stabbed by a fucking mime?! Was it even a real knife or was this just some A+ really top of the line pantomime that this fucker did?”

Well that was one way to quell the panic. Kaden could feel the anger rising up as the other man laughed. No, fucking cackled. “Shut it!” He looked down at the edge of the bed where his tray fell. Maybe there was still a shitty clementine or something he could chuck at Ricky’s fucking head. No luck. There was still a beret, though. It’d have to do. He scooped it up, scrunched it into a ball, and threw it across the room. He practically huffed as he stewed over on his bed, but a quick glance over to his roommate practically splitting his stitches and he saw it. It was subtle enough, but there was no denying those were fucking big ass fangs sticking out while he cackled. Well that answered that question he was pretty sure he already had the answer to: Monster. What kind, he’d figure out later. Couldn’t be undead if he had a heartbeat to monitor, he knew that much. And couldn’t be a wolf since he didn’t send all of Kaden’s hairs on edge. “Putain, yes it was a real fucking knife, connard! He was fucking possessed or cursed or some shit! Broke into the restaurant and just b-lined to stab me and wouldn’t fucking stop until he died.” It was goddamn karmic watching Ricky in pain over his laughter. Deserved at least that much.

“Oh no, Fuckstick McMimeChow, you have to deal with this fucking laughter because it is infinitely hilarious that a hunter got hospitalized by a motherfucking mime.” Ricky allowed the beret to hit him in the face if only because Kaden deserved at least that tiny victory, and as he held hit in his hands he took as subtle a smell of it as he could, but picked up nothing more than dollar store shampoo and dried blood, “Well… while you can make the argument that choosing ‘mime’ as your profession is in and of itself a curse… he was definitely human.” He threw the beret to the foot of Kaden’s bed, “but I’d wash your hands. There’s blood on that.” Pressing a slightly trembling hand to his chest; the pain was now greater than the mirth he’d received at Kaden’s attack, “That’s gotta be like… top three for shitty dinners. I mean I’ve had some bad fucking meals in my day and while I’ve had both a beer and a dinner roll thrown at me on separate occasions nobody’s actually stabbed me before. Did you kill this maniacal mime or did he just… I don’t know… suddenly expire after coming into contact with undiluted Blood of Douchebag.”

If Kaden had something else to throw, he would have. Instead all he could do was glower at the laughter. “Congrats, Detective pain in the ass, I figured that much out. Of course he was human. Problem was you didn’t see him. The look in his eye. It was like the lights were out but he was going through the motions anway. Really fucking determinedly, too.” At Ricky's evaluation of the beret, he looked down at his hands and decided to just wipe them off on the side of the bed again, in case there was any blood. “We barely got to wine let alone dinner. So yeah, I’d say so.” He sighed, thinking about the poor chardonnay that was the only thing that was murdered that night. What a waste. His head snapped to face his current roommate at his last comment. “Hey, I did not kill him! I mean I didn’t take it lying down, but I’m not a murderer, alright!”

“I’m really feeling like you’re not putting the same energy into this rivalry I am, Kaden. I come up with Fuckstick McMimeChow and you counter with Detective Pain in the ass? I’m a little hurt.” Ricky shot as withering a look as he could manage across the room, “Are you sure that was a curse/possession and not just… you know… people’s kneejerk reaction to being in your presence? I know I always get the urge to stab you repeatedly.” Watching Kaden wipe his hands on the bed he listened before chuffing a sigh of a laugh, “Wait wait wait… did you get stabbed by a mime on a fucking date? Jesus fucking Christ talk about just compounded shit luck. That’s just… woof. I don’t even have anything cutting or scathing for that… that’s just… that’s just rough.” Any pity he might have felt for the other man quickly evaporated however, “Oh yes. This old chestnut. I spend my life hunting things down but am somehow not a murderer. What is this… verse 78 now?”

“Sorry, what can I say. I don’t spend as much time thinking about you as you think about me.” Kaden rolled his eyes at the remark. “He came into the restaurant seemingly just to stab me. I know I’ve pisseed people off but that just doesn’t track, alright. I never saw the guy before. And yeah I was on a fucking date, alright. Shocking as it may be. Still not sure if it’s one of the worst dates I’ve been on.” He sighed at the remark. Of course, couldn’t get through one conversation without the bleeding heart bullshit. “Look you don’t have to fucking agree with me but don’t act like you don’t know where I stand. Murder is when you kill people and monsters aren’t people. Been over this.” There was a long stretch of silence and it seemed like they might be done snipping for the moment. Fine by him, but the whole place was too quiet. And he couldn’t bear to sit and watch this shitty infomercial. He waited a moment, maybe he could just sleep or something. But he wasn’t tired. “Hey, uh, I think you have the remote. Can you change the thing. The Price is Right is about to come on.”

“Jesus. And I thought my fucking love life was grim. You make me look like a fucking Casanova if that wasn’t one of your worst dates. Am I surprised? No. But still… blech. Poor woman. I’m just assuming you’re straight because I’m fervently praying you’re not gay. We don’t want you on our team. Please stay far the fuck away.” It was still a little surprising how robotic and immediate the return to the hunter party line was. There was almost a moment, for just the briefest of seconds, where Ricky had thought that they were actually on the road to… well whatever was one step above immediately homicidal. But all of that was swept away in an instant as they returned to ground zero. A zone which did not net Kaden any tv privileges. “Sorry.” He picked up the remote and plucked its batteries out, tossing the powerless shell to the other man, “Sharing is what people do.” He smiled a wide bright smile, every perfectly maintained fang shining in the horrible hospital lighting, “and I guess I just don’t qualify. Besides…. Price is Right with no Bob Barker? One of us is the monster here and it isn’t me.” This was going to be the longest hospital stay ever.

#chatzy #writing #wickedswriting #ten ccs of sass #ricky #rickycorderbro

[flamingpossums]

“I know you’re awake, Twells.”

Writing One Electric Boogaloo: The Part Where He Blackmails Him under the cut babey! (Writing one out of one most likely b/c this is just a dumby ask blog and I don’t see myself making more writings on here unless i decide it deserves a writing lolol)

Gene grabbed his hat from on top of the arsonist’s head, holding it to his lap as he crept forwards. His footsteps were distinct amongst the silence of the house.

“Hng...tired… Gimme five more minutes,” Farrow slurred, eyes slowly squinting open. They were immediately squeezed back shut as Gene clicked on a flashlight, shining it directly in his face. “Fuck, man, is that necessary?”

“Absolutely not. Wake up, Farrow. You and I? We’re gonna have a talk.” Gene spoke precisely.

“I’m not talking to mafia scum like you.” An eye squinted open, and Farrow spat on Gene’s shoes. He was in his living room, some of the furniture moved aside out of his reach. The lights were off and the curtains were drawn.

“...Hm. Already defiant, aren’t we? You do understand that the more you disobey, the heavier your punishment’ll be, right?”

“...Punishment?”

“I’m not here to have a pleasant evening chat over tea, Farrow. I have business to settle here. Now listen-- I’ve found that you’re not really the Bodyguard you claim to be, is that right?” Gene’s hand flicked downwards, veering the flashlight below with it. It illuminated the lower half of Farrow’s face.

“Don’t think you need to know, Trenchcoat.” Farrow’s lips curled up into a scowl as he spoke. Amused chuckling followed from Gene.

“No need to keep acting tough, Mr. Twells. Or should I say, Mr. Farrow? Perhaps even the long forgotten Mr. Retner? Whichever one of your identities you’d rather go under today. Go ahead, choose.” From his coat came a briefcase, and from that slim black briefcase he took out a small stack of loose papers-- he held them out to Farrow like a deck of cards. Miscellaneous papers, the lot of them, but all of them shared one common trait: his alibis were written all over them. Farrow’s scowl was wiped off his face.

“Where’d you get these?” He blurted. “I… I don’t even remember half of these?”

“They’re all yours, bud. I don’t tell anyone my sources.” Farrow reached out to snatch them back, but his arms were restrained at the sides. He writhed around and grit his teeth, Gene watching his pitiful attempts and smirking. “I know many things about you, Mr. Farrow. You’re a rather interesting character. More interesting than the pathetic crooks I deal with every other day. So, thanks! Thanks for making my work a little more tolerable.” His eyes squinted up, hinting to a sly smile below his mask.

“What the hell do you want from me?” Farrow growled. “Sure, you’ve found me out. What are you gonna do, reveal me to death? I don’t care. Do it. Have fun with it. By the time they hang me I’ll be back.”

“Ah, yes, your revival. Funny you mention that, actually. Delving into your peculiar mystery of a past I found death records. The first, I was sure it was faked, but the second one? My my, how weird is it that a man found dead would be up and talking to me personally three or so years later? Lucky me.” Gene giggled. “Mendel Slovak-- really interesting character as well. I didn’t look too much into him-- for once that’s not my business--but he did a good favor getting you out of that graveyard, huh? Or, well, dumpster.” Another one of his irritating chuckles. Farrow glared and grit his teeth more forcefully, both out of anger and the anxiety that undeniably started boiling inside him.

“Seeing that if you die you’ll just be revived again,” Gene continued, “my mafia has so kindly arranged a special death for you, if you go against my demands. One you won’t cheat.” He shoved his face closer to Farrow’s, flashlight casting a shadow over it. Farrow pressed his back to the chair, eyes widening. “As I like to put it...they won’t find your body.”

“...Personal space exists, fuckhead.”  Gene backed right back up into his former position. “And what are you asking for? Money? A town? Multiple towns? I’ve got a few up my sleeve I don’t care about anymore, take them. I really don’t care.” Farrow’s eyes went back to being narrowed in a weary glare.

“Not exactly, although that does sound nice. What I need for you is something different. Something more...helpful.” Gene wrung his hands together as he gathered his thoughts.

“Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you, if it means you’ll fuck off.”

“Alright, so, I had a simple request for you, but seeing as you’ve had a...rather rocky past with the mafia, I suppose I should give you a choice in the matter rather than trying to get you to do something you’ll probably obnoxiously refuse to do. See? I’m nice. Usually, I wouldn’t give you a choice, right? But I’m nice.” Another invisible grin crept on Gene’s face as he turned around, back faced to Farrow. “Here’s your choices, Mr. Farrow. Either you can join the Mafia--”

“You’re fucking stupid if you think I’ll ever associate myself with you.”

“Easy, now, I wasn’t done,” Gene spat, pivoting back to face him. “...Either you can join the Mafia, be whatever you’d like-- Mafioso, maybe a Forger, Blackmailer...You name it, and if you’re qualified, you’re under our wings.”

“...And what’s my second option?”

“Well, this one’s a little lengthy. But in the end, it’s fair.” He tapped his own chin in thought. “You’ll tell us the names and roles of your little Neutral friends. As many as you can name. We already know about your brother, so you don’t--”

“You don’t lay a fucking hand on him,” He snarled. “I’ll knock your damned lights out.”

“Hey, now. Nobody’s getting hurt if you play along, Farrow. You’re to tell us about all your neutral killing friends; we won’t kill them-- we can’t, most of them will be night immune. But it’ll give us information to work with.” Farrow remained silent.

“Secondly, you’ll douse who we tell you to douse. This may include some of your friends--none of your family, but ah, maybe a few you won’t mind being picked off. You are not to douse anyone who is in or working with the Mafia, and we’ll make sure of that.”

“This deal sounds terrible.”

“I’m not done yet, idiot,” Gene snapped. “Thirdly, you are to not speak anything about the Mafia. You will not mention us. To everyone including yourself, I’m an Investigator. Got it? You are not to talk bad about the Mafia, and you are not to tell anyone of the existence of the Mafia. Zip.” Gene made a zipping gesture over his mouth. Farrow simply rolled his eyes. “If you do as much as mention the Mafia, you’re dead, and you’re not coming back. Understand that? Dead forever.”

“Wow, I’m so scared. I’m, like, shaking right now.” Farrow scoffed. “The hell’s in it for me, then, if I gotta do all this bullshit?”

“Many things, Farrow. I am working with you, not against you. First of all, if you keep up to my demands for two weeks--that’s it, two weeks of your compliance is all I need-- your secrets are safe with me. The town’ll be blissfully unaware of your presence as an arsonist, your past, your alibis, every single one of your major and trivial crimes. You won’t be hung up in the middle of town. And most importantly, your family and friends shall remain safe and sound. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“My...hold on a minute. And if I refuse to do all this garbage?” Farrow furrowed his eyebrows curiously.

“Well, then all your secrets are out, and the town’ll be running to hang you in an instant. Your friends and family’ll quickly find their way as targets for us, and we’ll do anything in our power to swiftly take care of them.” Gene smiled and cocked his head. “I think you’ll find it wise to play with us rather than against us. We take all this very seriously.”

“You fucker. Do whatever the hell you want to me, whatever, kill me in your favorite way or whatever, but leave them out of this.”

“Sorry, Farrow. I already know you value your life as much as you value, ah, a crack in the sidewalk. We need to have something of actual value at stake here, Mr. Twells.”

“You’re not fucking touching them!” He writhed some more, but the ropes weren’t giving away anytime soon. “Literally, take anything you want, my house, my money, whatever! I don’t care! I don’t want them pulled into this shit!”

“Rules are rules, my friend.” Gene chuckled, backing up a bit. “Besides, I’ve set up an easy deal for you. Just do what I ask of you and they’ll be spared. It’s not that hard!”

“We’ll just kill you, you bastard. We’re stronger than you are! You and your goons’ll have your intestines strung up like decorations in your stupid base! My dad’ll fucking shred you!”

Gene smirked.

“Mm. I’m afraid if you attempt any sort of aggression or violent action towards us, we’ll have all of you neatly arranged dead on the ground right tucked into the alley between this house and the neighbor’s. Remind you of anyone, Farrow?” His eyes squinted up in the smuggest smile one’s ever seen.

“...I’ll fucking kill you, you little bitch.” Farrow started thrashing in another attempt to get out of the ropes, anything it’d take to get his hands wrung around Gene’s throat. “I’ll kill you!” He shouted.

“We’ll be having none of that, Mr. Twells.” Gene calmly packed up his suitcase and tucked it inside his coat. Ana flew onto his shoulder following his familiar welcoming whistle, simply tilting her head at the man seething with rage right behind the two. “I suggest you start watching your words from now on, Farrow. I’ve so cleverly bugged you, so anything you say’ll be tracked and logged. No naughty words, alright? We’re watching.” Gene looked over his shoulder and tilted his head. Ana mimicked him, cocking hers to the right as well. Farrow ceased his futile struggling, slumping down in the chair in defeat and breathing slightly heavily. His neck, usually numb, started sending aches down his shoulder and the side of his face. Listening to whatever jargon he has left for him, he glared daggers into Gene.

“Remember the deal I made with you, alright? Feel free to write it down for yourself once you’re free. Just don’t show it to anyone, alright? I’m watching you, Farrow.” He winked.

“Fuck you,” Farrow murmured.

“Two weeks.” Gene held up two fingers, nearing the door. “Two weeks is all. I’ll be seeing you, Farrow. Farewell.” He flicked off the flashlight and set the hat back on his head, tilting it as a goodbye.

“Wait!” Farrow called out. “I’m still tied!”

“Oh, you know well if I untie you you’ll just go for my throat. Your dad’s coming home soon, anyways. Ask him to do it for you.” He giggled. “See you!” He opened the door and shut it behind him.

Farrow lay still for a minute, eyes wide as he tried to process exactly what had just gone down. He couldn’t slide lower into his own chair due to the ropes.

This guy, although hard to admit, knew almost everything about him. He even knew about the smallest things that happened almost 15 years ago!

“God, fuck me,” he grit.

The ominous shadow looking outside the window disappeared into the night the instant Gene started hightailing it home. The clouds gently wafted along to eventually uncover the kindly shining gibbous moon, and the winds picked up outside the house. A creak sounded out from the attic. Farrow shut his eyes and considered just sleeping this off. He waned into sleep….

A loud crash sounded out, and a grown man fell out through the attic. He landed on the floor and swore a bit, quickly getting up. His hands were full of cat food.

“Shit, sorry about that, mate.” Farrow, already disturbed, stared at him silently. “Where’d the guy go?”

“Were you there the entire time? Who...who even are you?!” The blonde man winked and stuck out his tongue playfully.

“I’ve gotta go! Nice seeing you!”

“Wait, wait! Untie me! Fuck, come back!” The man turned around and grinned.

“You’re lookin’ awful tied up, aren’t ya? Aww, that’s too bad. But you’ll be fine, don’t sweat it!” He stood silent, just grinning, the two staring at each other for a solid few seconds. “...Well, bye!” He slammed the door shut.

“Fucker!” Farrow screamed, kicking his own chair. He threw his head back and groaned audibly. Now there were two grown men hightailing after Gene, each for their own entertainment. Farrow sat still tied up in his own living room, and the night dragged on.

#((Farrow has been blackmailed!)) #((Juggy was eavesdropping )) #not an ask #writing #art #long post #delrosa #mafia #juggy #s #:)

[cute-aggression-9]

I hate the fucking world, to many god damn fuckers it in. to many thoughts about societies all wrapped up together in this place called AMERICA. everyone has their own god damn opinions on every damn thing and you may be saying "well what makes you so different?". because I have something only me and V have, SELF AWARENESS, Call it exortenstiolism or whatever the fuck u want. we know what are to this world and what everyone else is. we learn more than what caused the civil war and how to simplify quadratics in school. we have been watching you people. we know what you think and how you act, all talk and no actions. people who are said to be brave or couragous are usually just STUPID then they say later that they did it on purpose cause they are brave when they did on fucking accident. GOD everything is so corrupt and so filled with opinions little and points of view and peoples' own little agendas and shedules. this isnt a world anymore, its H.O.E. and [no]one knows it. self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know I will die soon, so will you and everyone else. maybe will we be lucky and a comet will smash us back to day 1. people say it is immoral to follow others, they say be a leader. well here is a fuckin news flash for you stupid shits, everyone is a follower! everyone who says they arent a follower and then dresses diff. or acts diff. ... They got that from something they saw on TV or in film or in life. no originality, how many JO MAMMA jokes are there and how many do u think are original and not copied. KEINE. Its a fucking filthy place we live in. all these standards and laws and Great Expectations (webb) are making people into robots even though they might "think" they arent and try to deny it. no matter how hard they try to NOT copy someone I still AM! except for this fucking piece of paper right here, and B.T.W spelling is stupid unless I say. I say spell it how it sounds, it's the fuckin easiest way. hey try this sometime, when someone tells you something, ask "why?" eventually they will be stumped and cant answer anymore. thats because they only know what they need to know in society and school, not real life science. they will end up saying words to this "because! Just shut up!" people that only know stupid facts that arent important should be shot, what fucking use are they. NATURAL SELECTION. KILL all retards, people w/ brain fuck ups, drug adics, people cant figure out to use a fucking lighter. GEEEAWD! people spend millions of dollars on saving the lives of retards, and why. I don't buy that shit like "oh hes my son though!" so the fuck what, he aint normal, kill him, put him out his misery. he is only a waste of time and money, then people say "But he is worth the time, he is human too" no he isnt, if he was then he would swalow a bullet cause he would realize what a fucking waste and burden he was. -- 4/10/98   as I said before, self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know what all you fuckers are thinking and what to do to piss you off and make you feel bad. I always try to be different, but I always end up copying someone else. I try to be a mixture of different things and styles but when I step out of myself I end up looking like others or others THINK I am copying. One big fucking problem Is people telling me what to fuckin do, think, say, act, and everything else. Ill do what you say IF I feel like it. But people (I.E. parents, cops, God, teachers) telling me what to [arrow points to do, think, say, act, and everything else] just makes me not want to fucking do it! thats why my fucking name is REB!!! no one is worthy of shit unless I say they are, I feel like GOD and I wish I was, having everyone being OFFICIALLY lower than me. I already know that I am higher than almost anymore in the fucking welt in terms of universal Intelligence and where we stand in the universe compared to the rest of the UNIV. and if you think I dont know what Im talking about then you can just "ßUCK DICH" and saugen mein Hund! Isnt america supposed to be the land of the free? how come, If im free, I cant deprive a stupid fucking dumbshit from his possessions If he leaves then sitting in the front seat of his fucking van out in plain sight and in the middle fucking nowhere on a Fri fucking day night. NATURAL SELECTION. fucker should be shot. same thing with all those rich snotty toadies at my school. fuckers think they are higher than me and everyone else with all their $ just because they were born into it? Ich denk NEIN. BTW, "sorry" is just a word. it doesnt mean SHIT to me. everyone should be put to a test. an ULTIMATE DOOM test, see who can survive in an environtment using only smarts and military skills. put them in a doom world. no authority, no refuge, no BS copout excuses. If you cant figure out the area of a triangle or what "cation" means, you die! if you cant take down a demon w/ a chainsaw or kill a hell prince w/ a shotgun, you die! fucking snotty rich fuckheads [Censored by J.C.Sheriff Office] who rely on others or on sympathy or $ to get them through life should be put to this challenge. plus it would get rid of all the fat, retarded, crippled, stupid, dumb, ignorant, worthless people of this world. no one is worthy of this planet only me and who ever I choose. there is just no respect for anything higher than your fucking boss or parent. everyone should be shot out into space and only the people I saw should be left behind. 4/12/98 ever wonder why we go to school? besides getting a so called education. its not to obvious to most of you stupid fucks but for these who think a little more and deeper you should realize it. its societies way of turning all the young people into good little robots and factory workers thats why we sit in desks in rows and go by bell schedules, to get prepared for the real world cause "thats what its like". well god damit no it isnt! one thing that seperates us from other animals is the fact that we can carry on actual thoughts. so why don't we?  people go on day by day. rutine shit. why cant we learn in school how we want to. why cant we sit on desks and on shelves and put our feet up and relax while we learn? cause thats not what the "real world is like" well hey fuckheads, there is no such thing as an actual "real world". its just another word like justice, sorry, pity, religion, faith, luck and so on. we are humans. if we dont like something we have the fucking ability to change! but we dont, atleast U dont. I would. U just whine/bitch thoughtout life but never do a goddamn thing to change anything. "man can eat, drink, fuck, and hunt and anything else he does is madness" - Based on Lem's quote. boy oh fuckin boy is that true. when I go NBK, and people say things like, "oh it was so tragic," or "oh he is crazy!" or "It was bloody!" I think, so the fuck what, you think thats a bad thing? just because your mommy and daddy told you blood and violence is bad, you think its a fucking law of nature? wrong, only science and math are true, everything, and I mean everyfuckingthing else is man made. my doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone doesnt like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probly will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you arent human you are a Robot. you dont take advantage of your capabilites given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and headdown the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what I am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isnt "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO GOD FUCKING DAMIT NO!I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deam unfit for anything at all. especially life. and i fyou pissed me off in the past, you will die if I see you. because you might be able to piss off others and have it eventually all blow over, but not me. I dont forget people who wronged me. like [Censored by J.C. Sheriff Office] he will never get a chance to read this because he will be dead by me before this is discovered  -- 4/21/98 The human race sucks. human nature is smuthered out by society, jobs, and work and school. instincts are deleted by laws. I see people say things that contradict themselves, or people that dont take any advantage to the gift of human life. they waste their minds on memorizing the stats of every college basketball player or how many words should be an a report when they should be using their brain on more important things. the human race isnt worth fighting for anymore. WWII was the last war worth fighting and was the last time human life and human brains did any good any made us proud. now, with the government having scandals and conspiracies all over the fucking place and lying to everyone all the time and with worthless pointless mindless discraceful TV shows on (scratched out) and with everyone ub-fucking-sessed with hollywood and beauty and fame and glamour and politics and anything famous, people just arent worth saving. Society may not realize what is happening but I have; you go to school, to get used to studying and learning how youre "supposed to" so that drains or filters out a little bit of human nature. but thats after your parents taught you whats right and wrong even though you may think differently, you still must to have more of your human nature blown out of your ass. society trys to make everyone act the same by burying all human nature and instincts. Thats what school, laws, jobs, and parents do If they realize it or not and them, the few who stick to their natural instincts are casted out as psychos or lunatics or strangers or just plain different. crazy, strange, weird, wild, these words are not bad or degrading.. if humans were let to live how we would naturaly it would be chaos and anarchy and the human race wouldnt probably last that long, but hey guess what, thats how its supposed to be!!!!! society and goverments are only created to have order and calmness, which is exactly the opposite of pure human nature. take away all your laws and morals and just see what you can do. if the goverment was one entity it would be thinking "hey, lets make some order here and calm these crazy fucks down so we can be constructive and fight other goverments in our own little so called self created "civilizied world" and get rid of all those damn insticts everyone has" well shit I'm to tired wright anymor tonight, so until next time, fuck you all -- 5/6/98   It has been confirmed, after getting my yearboook and watching people like [censored] and [censored] the human race isn't worth fighting for, only worth killing. give the Earth back to the animals, they deserve it infinitely more than we do. nothing means anything more, most quotes are worthless, especially the rearranged ones like "dont fight your enemies, make your enemies fight" you know, quotes that use the same phrase just rearranged, Dumbfuck shit [illegible] wear. its funny, people say "you shouldn't be so different." to me, and 1st I say fuck you dont tell me what I should and shouldn't be and 2ND mother fuckers different is good, I dont want to be like you or anyone which is almost impossible this day w/ all the little shits trying to be "original-copycats", I expect shits like you to criticize anyone who isnt one of your social words; "normal" or "civilized" - see tempest and Caliban.  allyou degrading worthless shits. all caught up and brainwashed into the 90's society. "what? you AREN'T going to college, are you are crazy!" holy SHIT that is one fucking BIG Quote that just proves my point. step back and look at yourself fuckers, I dare you, maybe I'll get lucky and you'll step back to far like Nick in Elm3. w/ the same concequence.  -- 5/9/98  wooh, different pen. HA! alright you pathetic fools listen up; I have figured it out. the human race strives for exellence in life and community always wanting to bring more =good= into the comm. and nulify =bad= things. anyone who thinks differently than the majority or the leaders is deamed "unusual" or weird or crazy. people want to be a part of something; a family, a service, a club, a union, a community, whatever. thats what humans want. who cares waht you as an individual thinks, you must do what you are told, whether it is jump of a bridge or drive on the right side of the road. protesters in the past protested because the human race that was dominant (Ghandi and the Brits or the king and the americans) wasnt working out = they had fault = they failed = their ideas didnt work. humans dont change that much, they only get better technology to do their work quicker/easier. people always say we shouldnt be racist. why not? Blacks ARE different, like it or not they are. they started on the bottom so why not keep em there. it took the centuries to convince us that they are equal but they still use their color as an excuse or they just discriminate us because we are white. Fuck you, we should ship yer black asses back to Afri-fucking-ca were you came from. we brought you here and we will take you back. America=White. Gays....well all gays, ALL gays, should be killed.  mit keine fragen. lesbians are fun to watch if they are hot but still, its not human. its a fucking disease. you dont see bulls or roosters trying to fuck do you? no, I didn't think so. women you will always be under men. its been seen throughout nature, males are almost always doing the dangerous shit while the women stay back. its your animal instincts, deal with it or commit suicide, just do it quick. thats all for now. -- 5/20/98   If you recall your history the Nazis came up with a "final solution" to the Jewish problem... kill them all. well incase you havent figured it out yet, I say, "K I L L  M A N K I N D" no one should survive. we all live in lies. people are saying they want to live in a perfect society, well utopia doesnt exist. It is human to have flaws.   you know what, Fuck it. why should I have to explain myself to you survivors when half of the shit I say you shitheads wont understand and if you can then woopie fucking do. that just means you have something to say as my reason for killing. and the majority of the audience wont even understand my motives either! they'll say "ah, hes crazy, hes insane, oh well, I wonder if the bulls won." you see! it's fucking worthless! all you fuckers should die! DIE! what the fuck is the point if onlu some people see what I am saying, there will always be ones who dont, ones that are to dumb or naive or ignorrant or just plain retarded. If I cant pound it into every single persons head then it is pointless. fuck mercy fuck justic fuck morals fuck civilized fuck rules fuck laws... DIE manmade words...people think they apply to everything when they dont/cant. theres no such thing as True Good or True Evil, its all relative to the observer. its just all nature, chemistry, and math. deal with it. but since dealing with it seems impossible for mankind, since we have to slap warning labels on nature, then... you die. burn, melt, evaporate, decay, just go the fuck away!!!! YAAAAAH!!!! - 6/12/98- KEIN MITLEID "when in doubt, confuse the hell out the enemy" - Fly 9/2/98 wait mercy doesnt exist....   heres something to chew on....: today I saw a program on the discovery channel about satelites and radar and aircraft and stuff, and at the end of the show the narrator said some things that made me think "damn, we are so advanced, we kick ass, america is awesome, we have so many things in our military, we would kick anyones ass." for a minute I actually had some pride in our nation.... then I realized, "hey, this only the Good things that I am seeing here. only the Pros, not the cons. maybe thats what people see, only the Pros, and thats why they are under control. but me, I see all... you can only blind me for so long. but alas, I have realized that Yes, the human race is still indeed doomed. It just needs a few kick starts, like me, and hell, maybe even [censored]. If can whipe a few cities off the map, and even the fuckhead Holding the map, then great. hmm, just thinking if I want ALL humans dead or maybe just the quote-unquote "civilized, developed, and known-of" places on Earth. maybe leave little tribes of natives in the rain forest er something. hmm, I'll think about that. eh. done for tonight -REB- 6/13/98   As part of the human race, and having the great pleasure of being blessed with a brain, I can think.  Humans can do whatever they want. There are no laws of nature that prevent humans from making choices. maybe from actually DOING some of those choices, but not from making the choice. If a man choosses to speed while driving home one day, then it is his fault for whatever happens. If he crashes into a school bus full of kidies and they all burn to death, its his fault. Its only a tragedy if you think it is, and then its only a tragedy in your own mind. so you shouldn't expect others to think that way also. it could also be a miracle for another person. maybe the bus stopped the car from plowing into a little old lady walking on the sidewalk. one could think it was a "miracle" that she wasnt hit. you see, anything and everything that happens in our world is just that, a HAPPENING. anything else is relative to the observer, but yet we try to have a "universal law" or "code" of what is good and bad and that just isnt fucking correct. we shouldn't be allowed to do that. we arent GODS. just because we are at the top of the food chain with our technology doesnt mean we can be "judges" of nature. sure we can think what we can think what we want, but you can "think" and "believe" you can judge people and nature all you want, but you are still wrong! why should your morals apply to everyone else. "morale" is just another word. and thats it. I think we are all a waste of natural resources and should be killed off, and since humans have the ability to choose... and I'm human... I think I will choose to kill and damage as much as nature allows me to so take that. fuck you, and eat napalm + lead! HA! only Nature can stop me. I know I could get shot by a cop after only killing a single person, but hey guess the fuck WHAT! I chose to kill that one person so get over it! Its MY fault! not my parents, not my brothers, not my friends, not my favorite bands, not computer games, not the media. IT is MINE! go shut the fuck up! -REB- 7/29/98     someones bound to say "what were they thinking?" when we go NBK or when we were planning it, so this what I am thinking. "I have a goal to destroy as much as possible so I must not be sidetracked by my feelings of sympathy, mercy, or any of that, so I will force myself to believe that everyone is just another monster from Doom like FH or FS or demons, so It's either me or them. I have to turn off my feelings." keep this is mind, I want to burn the world, I want to kill everyone except about 5 people, who I will name later, so If you are reading this you are lucky you escaped my rampage because I wanted to kill you. It will be very tricky getting all of our supplies, explosives, weaponry, ammo, and then hiding it all and then actually planting it all so we can achieve our goal. but if we get busted any time, we start killing then and there, just like Wilks from the AlIENS books, I aint going out without a fight. Once I finally start my killing, keep this in mind, there are probably about 100 people max in the school alone who I dont want to die, the rest, MUST FUCKING DIE! If I didnt like you or if you pissed me off and lived through my attacks, consider yourself one lucky god damn NIGGER. Pity that a lot of the dead will be a waste in someways, like dead hot chicks who were still bitches, they could have been good fucks. oh well, too fucking bad. life isnt fair... not by a long fuckin shot when Im at the wheel, too. God I want to torch and level everything in this whole fucking area but Bombs of that size are hard to make, and plus I would need a fuckin fully loaded A-10 to get every store on wadsworth and all the buildings downtown. heh, Imagine THAT ya fuckers, picture half of denver on fire just from me and Vodka. napalm on sides of skyscrapers and car garages blowing up from exploded gas tanks.... oh man that would be beautiful. -- 10/23/98   you know what, I feel like telling about lies. I lie a lot. almost constant. and to everybody, just to keep my own ass out of the water. and by the way (side note) I dont think I am doing this for attention, as some people may think. lets see, what are some big lies I have told; "yeah I stopped smoking," "for doing it not for getting caught," "no I'm havent been making more bombs," "no I wouldn't do that," and of course, countless of other ones, and yeah I know that I hate liers and I am one myself, oh fucking well. Its ok If I am a hypocrite, but no one else. because I am higher then you people, no matter what you say if you disagree I would shoot you And I am one racist mother fucker too, fuck the niggers and spics and chinks, unless they are cool, but sometimes they are so fucking retarded they deserve to be ripped on. some people go through life begging to be shot. and white fucks are just the same. if I could nuke the world I would, because so far I hate you all. there are probly around 10 people I wouldnt want to die, but hey, who ever said life is fair should be shot like the others too. - 11/1/98   heh heh heh. I sure had fun this weekend. lets see, what really happened. before going to the Rock n Bowl we stopped by King Soopers and one and [censored] picked up some big ass stoges. we then went to the Rock n Bowl and I had a few cigarettes and one of brand new cigars. we then went back to [censored] house where her mom had previousely bought us all a fuck load of liquor. personally I had asked for Tequilla and Irish cream, Vodka got his vodka, and there was beer, whiskey, schnopps, puckers, scotch and of course, orange juice! so we had some fun there playing cards and making drinks. we eventually made it to bed at about 5AM. got up at 10, went to safeway got some donouts and then I took Vodka home. the bottle of Tequilla is almost full and is in car, right by my spare tire and right by the bottle of irish cream. heh heh. I'll have to find a spot for those. and by the way, this nazi report is boosting my love of killing even more. like the early Nazi government, my brain is like a sponge, sucking up everything that sounds cool and leaving out all that is worthless, thats how Nazism was formed and thats how I will be too! 11/8/98   Fuck you Brady! all I want is a couple of guns, and thanks to your fucking bill I will probably not get any! come on, I'll have a clean record and I only want for personal protection. Its not like I'm some person who would go on a shooting spree.... fuckers. Ill probably end up nuking everything and fucking robbing some gun collectors house. Fuck, thatll be be hard. oh well, just as long as I kill a lot of fucking people. Everyone is always making fun of me because of how I look, how fucking weak I am and shit, well I will get you all back: ultimate fucking revenge here. you people could have shown more respect, treated me better, asked for my knowledge or guidence more, treated me more like senior, and maybe I wouldn't have been as ready to tear your fucking heads off. then again, I have always hated how I looked, I make fun of people who look like me, sometimes without even thinking sometimes just because I want to rip on myself. Thats where a lot of my hate grows from, the fact that I have practically no selfesteem, especially concerning girls and looks and such. therefore people make fun of me... constantly... therefore I get no respect and therefore I get fucking PISSED. as of this date I have enough explosives to kill about 100 people, and then if I get a couple bayonetts, swords, axes, whatever I'll be able to kill at least 10 more. and that just isnt enough! GUNS! I need guns! Give me some fucking firearms! 11/12/98   HATE! I'm full of hate and I Love it. I HATE PEOPLE and they better fucking fear me if they know whats good for em. yes I hate and I guess I want others to know it, yes I'm racist and I don't mind. Niggs and spics bring it on themselves, and another thing, I am very racist towards white trash p.o.s.s like [censored] and [censored] they deserve the hatred, otherwise I probly wouldnt hate them. Its a tragedy, the human nature of people will lead to their downfall. Peoples human nature will get them killed. whether by me or Vodka, Its happened before, and not just in school shootings like those pussy dumbasses over in Minnesota who squeeled. throughtout history, Its our fucking nature! I know how people are and why and I cant stand it! I love the nazis too... by the way, I fucking cant get enough of the swastika, the SS, and the iron cross. Hitler and his head boys fucked up a few times and it cost them the war, but I love their beliefs and who they were, what they did, and what they wanted. I know that form of gov couldn't have lasted long once the human equation was brought in, but damnit it sure looked good. every form of gov leads to downfalls, everything will always fuck up or yeah something. its all DOOMed god damnit. this is beginning to make me get in a corner. I'm showing too much of myself, my views and thoughts, people might start to wonder, smart ones will get nosey and something might happen to fuck me over, I might need to put on one helluva mask here to fool you all some more. fuck fuck fuck it'll be very fucking hard to hold out until April. If people would give me more compliments all of this might still be avoidable... but probably not. Whatever I do people make fun of me, and sometimes directly to my face. I'll get revenge soon enough. fuckers shouldn't have ripped on me so much huh! HA! then again its human nature to do what you did... so I guess I am also attacking the human race. I cant take it, Its not right... true... correct... perfect. I fucking hate the human equation. Nazism would be fucking great if it werent for individualism and our natural instinct to ask questions. you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that'll just change some shit around. thats another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh... weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo... Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh... the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist... BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now... the salty sweat, the animalistic movement... Iccchhh... lieeebe...... fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then "fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside" as Reznor said. oh... thats something else... that one NIN video I saw, broken or closer or something, the where the guy is kidnapped and tortured like hell... actual hell. I want to do that too. I want to tear a throat out with my own teeth like a pop can. I want to gut someone with my hand, to tear a head off and rip out the heart and lungs from the neck, to stab someone in the gut, shove it up to the heart, and yank the fucking blade out of their rib cage! I want to grab some weak little freshman and just tear them apart like a fucking wolf. show them who is god. strangle them, squish their head, bite their temples into the skull, rip off their jaw. rip off their colar bones, break their arms in half and twist them around, the lovely sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping, ahh... so much to do and so little chances. -- 11/17/98 "weisses fleisch" - perfect - song - for - me   Well folks, today was a very important day in the history of R. Today along with Vodka and someone else who I wont name, we went downtown and purchased the following; a double barrel 12ga. shotgun, a pump action 12ga. shotgun, a 9mm carbine, 250 9mm rounds, 15 12ga slugs, 40 shotgun shells, 2 switch blade knives, and total of 4 - 10 round clips for the carbine. we....... have.... GUNS! we fucking got em you sons of bitches! HA! HAHAHA! neener! Booga Booga. heh. its all over now. this capped it off, the point of no return. I have my carbine, shotgun, ammo and knife all in my trunk tonight and theyll there till tomorrow... after school you know its really a shame. I had a lot of fun at that gun show, I would have loved it if you were there dad. we would done some major bonding. would have been great. oh well. but, alas, I fucked up and told [censored] about my "flask". that really disappoints me. [censored] I know you thought it was good for me... in the long run and all that shit, smart of you to give me a such big raise and then rat me out, you figure it was supposed to cancel each other? god damn flask, that just fucked me over big time. now you all will be on my ass even more than before about being on track. I'll get around it though, If have to cheat and lie to everyone then thats fine. THIS is what I am motivated for, THIS is my goal. THIS is what I want to do with my life! you know whats weird, I dont feel like a punching through a door because of the flask deal, probly cause I am fucking armed now. I feel more confident, stronger, and more Godlike. I have confidence in my ability to dese(cei)ve people. hopefully Ill make it to April, but that might not happen. Ug, Its been a busy weekend, I need to sleep, I'll continue tomorrow. 11/22/98   yesterday we fired our first actual firearms ever. 3 rounds from the carbine. taught that ground a thing or 2. I even had the 2 clips in my pocket while talking to vodkas dad about senior ditch day. God it felt great firing off that bad boy, and hopefully I'll be able to get more than just 4 clips for it. I dubbed my shotgun "Arlene" after Arlene Sanders from the DOOM books. She always did love the shotgun. Vodka's DB is looking very fucking awesome, all cut down to the proper lengths. this is a bitch trying to keep up on homework while working on my guns, bombs, and lying. by the way, I bought that flask in the mall and I had a friend fill it up w/ scotch whiskey, only had about 3 swigs in the 3 weeks I had it. plus monday I gave my T and IC to Vodka, just in case. I never really did like alcohol, just wasn't my thing, but It felt good to just have around. that argument on the 22nd was a real bitch, but I think I should have won a fucking oscar. I even quoted a few movies, remember "what the hell am I gonna do now man?! what am I gonna do!?" thats good ole Hudson from aliens. Sounded good too. and hey goddamnit I would have been a fucking great marine, It would have given me a reason to do good. and I would never drink and drive, either. It will be weird when we actually go on the rampage. hopefully we will have plenty of clips and bombs. Im gonna still try and get my calico 9mm. just think, 100 rounds without reloading.... hell yeah! We actually may have a chance to get some machine pistols thanks to the Brady bill. If we can save up about 200$ real quick and find someone who is 21+ we can go to the next gun show and find a private dealer and buy ourselves some bad-ass AB-10 machine pistols. Clips for those things can get really fucking big too. 12/3/98   Woohoo, I'll never have to take a final again! feels good to be free. I just love Hobbes and Nietzche. Well tomorrow I'll be ordering 9 more 10 round clips for my carbine. I'm gonna be so fucking loaded in about a month. the big things we need to figure now is the time bombs for the commons and how we will get them in and leave then there to go off, without any fucking Jews finding them. I wonder if anyone will write a book on me. sure is a ton of symbolism, double meanings, themes, appearance vs reality shit going on here. oh well, it better be fuckin good if it is writtin. 12/17/98   heh, get this. KMFDM's new album is entitled  "Adios" and it's release date is in April. how fuckin appropriate, a subliminal final "Adios" tribute to Reb and Vodka. thanks KMFDM... I ripped the hell outa the system 12/20/98  jesus christ that was fucking close. fucking shitheads at the gun shop almost dropped the whole project. oh well, thank god I can BS so fucking well. I went and picked up those babies today, so now I got 13 of those niggers. WOOHAH. the stereo is very nice, but having no insurance payments to worry about so I could concentrate of BOMBS would have been better. oh well, I think I'll have enough. now I just need to get Vodka another gun. 12/29/98   Months have passed. Its the first Friday night in the final month. much shit has happened. Vodka has a Tec 9, we test fired all of our babies, we have 6 time clocks ready, 39 crickets, 24 pipe bombs, and the napalm is under construction. Right now I'm trying to get fucked and trying to finish off these time bombs. NBK came quick. why the fuck cant I get any? I mean, I'm nice and considerate and all that shit, but nooooo. I think I try to hard. but I kinda need to considering NBK is closing in. The amount of dramatic irony and foreshadowing is fucking amazing. Everything I see and I hear I incorporate into NBK somehow. Either bombs, clocks, guns, napalm, killing people, any and everything finds some tie to it. feels like a Goddamn movie sometimes. I wanna try to put some mines and trip bombs around this town too maybe. Get a few extra flags on the scoreboard. I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things. And no don't fucking say, "well thats your fault" because it isnt, you people had my phone #, and I asked and all, but no. no no no dont let the weird looking Eric KID come along, ohh fucking nooo. 4/3/99

[smashbuddies]

Part Fifteen: Mimic

“Talk Show Host Takes Punch While Defending Partner from Bigot”.

“Enraged Football Player Canned After Disastrous Assault”.

“Celebrity Twink Gets Decked by Malicious Meathead”.

So many wonderful headlines had popped up since that incident with Mike. Well, that last one was a little… Humiliating. But he was fixing it. All it took was a little white out and a sharpie, and he’d have a better headline to add to his little collection. Maybe it was a bit messed up to take so much pride in this, but he didn’t care. His black eye was healed all now and he deserved the chance to enjoy this.

“And… There!”

Just then, Snail walked through the door, and cocked an eyebrow up at the magazines he had scattered all over the table. “The hell’s all that?”

Daniel preened himself. “Articles about my bravery in the face of discrimination, of course. I got all the ones I could find as little mementos.”

Snail stepped closer so they could read the headlines. A thoughtful look was on their face. Not quite a smile, but he could tell they were happy. Maybe it was just the bad memories tied with it. “Yeah, this is pretty cool.”

That’s when their eyes finally landed on the magazine in his lap. And they laughed in his face.

“Celebrity Hunk? Um, you sure that’s the right article?”

“Of course it is,” he hissed, face hot. How could they see through it? He touched it up perfectly! So he pointed to the smiling photo of himself that was probably gotten off the internet. “That’s me!”

Snail only kept laughing. Full belly laughs that had them hunched over and gasping. To which Daniel huffed and gave them a scathing glare. It wasn’t that funny. Damn it all, maybe just leaving it as was would’ve been less hurtful to his pride.

“Next time you try to change something like that,” they wheezed out when they had mostly sobered up, “try to make it more believable.”

“I can be a hunk…”

They got that tight-lipped look like they were about to laugh again. And he didn’t want to go through another round of being humiliated by his boyfriend, thanks.

“Anyway, the best part about this is,” he said, cutting off the bark of laughter that had flown out their mouth, “that Mike’s reputation is a little in shambles. And he’s facing some mean consequences.” A coy smile took over his face as he held up the magazine on his lap. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Their eyebrows shot up, and all humor left their face. “Oh yeah? Cool, cool.”

And now was the hard part of this conversation.

“Also,” he began, setting the magazine down with the rest, “I’m going to try and get a protective order against him. Just in case.”

They let out a sigh, like they knew his exact reasoning for that decision, and plopped down right next to him. “That’s really unnecessary, you know.”

“He doesn’t live in town,” Daniel argued, “You told me that. He had no reason to be here. Except one.”

They had nothing to say to that. Hell, they couldn’t even look at him.

“I just want to do as much as I can,” he explained softly as he scooted closer to them. His heart warmed at how smoothly they put their arm around him. “Since you don’t want anything to do with him anymore, I’ll take all that off your shoulders. But there is something I have to ask you.”

Their face softened a bit, but they still shot him a suspicious side-eye. “What?”

Just to ease them, he pressed a kiss to their jaw. “Well, of course there’s going to be some kind of bullshit hearing in court. It might help my case if you’re able to be there and talk about what happened.” As soon as Snail tensed, he quickly added, “But. You don’t have to. I’m fairly sure I can win by myself. But I’m putting it out there that if you want to, you can help.”

“...Is he going to be there?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Their face screwed up. Then they let out a sigh. “I don’t know.”

“That’s fine. Like I said, you don’t have to.”

They glanced over at him, face unreadable. “You’re really… Taking me in consideration a lot, huh?”

He blinked. “Well, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno,” they answered with a half-smile. It was almost a little sad. “Sorry. Guess it’s just nice to have that for once.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’re not gonna have to go without it anytime soon,” he half-joked. “I think I’m gonna keep you around for a bit longer.”

Thankfully, they snorted and raised an eyebrow up at him, with a deadpan reply of, “Oh really?”

“Really.” In a bold move, he pulled himself onto their lap, straddling them so he could lean in real close to their face. “You’re pretty good looking. Can make good tea. You know how to stroke my ego- that’s very important.”

At that point, they had a bit of a grin on their face. “Yeah, I can stroke your dick pretty well too. That’s important, right?”

Their hands made their way to his hips and held on tightly, making his mouth fumble a bit in getting words out, “I- yes, exactly. Among other things.”

“Other things?” they repeated coyly as their wily hands of theirs slowly moved to his ass. “Like what? I’m just dying to know.”

“Oh, you know,” he answered and pressed himself closer against them, eyes half-lidded. He could already feel himself getting a little worked up. “Like, let’s see… Being able to pin me down and fu-”

Buzz-buzz!

“Oh my god,” he snapped, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Fucking interns, I swear, if they cockblock me, they’re going to regret it.”

But, to his surprise, the text he got was from no one in his contacts. Odd.

Unknown: So I see you’ve been making headlines lately.

“Something wrong?” Snail asked with a concerned frown.

“I don’t know who the fuck this is,” Daniel muttered, already working on a rather snippy reply, “or how they got my number, but I’m not putting up with this shit right now. Let me just get this fucker off my back and we can get back to it.”

Who the hell is this? And how the fuck do you know me?

Snail’s hands slid up to his back, light touches keeping his mind from buzzing too much. It was like his brain was replaced by a swarm of angry hornets. But he took a deep breath, and waited patiently.

Unknown: Jumpy, aren’t we? Well, I can’t blame you. This is what I get for changing my number. Anyway, it seems like things are rather stressful for you right now, so I thought I’d just check up on my favorite little protege. It’s been so long, after all. But I’m sure you can guess who I am now.

Cold washed over him. He reread the message a number of times, searching for any clue that could make the theory stuck in his head wrong. But no.

It was them.

Each heartbeat in his chest felt like a painful squeeze. He scrambled off Snail’s lap while his lungs tried working to get some damn air. It was like tunnel vision- all he could see were the stairs, the way to escape. Even Snail’s words didn’t quite break through the haze as he rushed up and locked himself away in the first room he could get to.

Years had passed since they left him. And now they were back. What did that mean? Were they keeping their promise?

A knock on the door. “Daniel? You doing okay?”

His throat tightened. No, he wasn’t doing okay, you moronic fuckhead. But the lie slipped out of his mouth all too easily. “Yeah, sorry, I just… Need a moment.”

“Okay…”

His phone buzzed in his hand, and he immediately felt like he was going to throw up. But that was just excitement, of course. He was happy they were back. Just overwhelmed. That’s all.

Unknown: I take it you’re in shock? Well, whenever you see this, I’ll be stopping by your house tomorrow evening. There’s important things we need to discuss, after all. Like the future of the show, and your choice in… Partners. Surely you could’ve found someone a little better for you?

Sure, Snail wasn’t refined, but they made him happy. And that’s what really mattered, right? Maybe his reputation was a little question now, sure, but… He was happy. 

He was.

Was he?

Finally, after struggling with the lead weights his hands had become, he sent back a message.

I don’t think you have much of a say in who’s ‘better for me’.

Unknown: Oh, so you know best now, is that it? You really think you don’t need my input anymore? Fine, I guess I could just find someone else to turn my focus to. I’m sure another young, handsome star in the making is in need of some guidance. You can just stagnate like you’ve been doing, I really don’t care.

Stagnate? He hadn’t been stagnating. He looked over the numbers, viewership has only been going up. But… They were always better at reading that sort of thing. Maybe they knew something he didn’t? Maybe viewers weren’t coming in as fast as before? But he thought…

Sorry, I’m just out of it right now. I’d love your help, really.

Unknown: Of course. You know I’m always happy to lend a hand. I’ll be there around seven to pick you up. A little dinner date sounds like a nice way to catch up.

They’d never taken him out to dinner before. Or agreed back when he’d constantly invite them. But things were different now, it seemed.

Alright, sounds like a plan.

It was just then he realized he had already made plans with Snail. Well, as much of a plan as them coming over and spending the night could be. But they’d understand, he could have them over some other night.

He left what he now realized was the guest bathroom and made his way back down to the living room. His body was on autopilot, seating him on the couch about as far from Snail as he could be. Nothing seemed quite right anymore. They saw something in Snail that he couldn't, apparently. What the hell was it?

“You look like you’re gonna puke,” Snail commented, eyebrows furrowed together as they scrutinized him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. But there was a little thought in the back of his head. Be honest. And, well, even now he couldn’t resist it. “Just… Someone I thought was long gone texted me. Threw me for a loop. We’re going to have dinner tomorrow.” He gave them an apologetic look when that scowl took over their face. “It’s the only time they’re free.”

A lie. But it was fine. They let out a little huff and leaned back, arms thrown across the back of the couch. Like they were inviting him to curl up next to them.

As much as he wanted to stay on his own side, he found himself doing it anyway. Their touch, once again, calmed his head down a bit. Softly, he said, “How about I come over and stay with you on Saturday?”

They scrunched their nose up for a moment. “Ah, fuck. I need to clean if we’re doing that.”

He rolled his eyes at them. “Well, you have all day tomorrow to do it. So you better get it done. I want that place spotless by the time I get there.”

“Of course, your highness,” they replied with a hint of snark. But luckily for them, they offset it with a kiss to his cheek. “Anything for my pretty princess.”

That comment got them a raised eyebrow. To which they gave a cocky grin in return. Well, he’d let them call him a princess if they wanted. But only if they kept calling him pretty too.

This was the fourth time he stabbed his fork into his food without the intention of taking a bite. He felt like a child, picking at it, moving little bits of chicken around so he could look like he was eating. So he could pretend that his stomach was working with him.

“You’re awfully quiet over there.”

He looked up at them. It was a little hard just taking them in again like this. Especially with the wrinkles deeply settled under their eyes. Like the definitive proof of the passing of time.

“I’m just thinking,” he answered, voice soft and complacent. The last thing he wanted was to make them angry now. Not when things seemed to be on good terms.

“About?”

Their tone gave away that they already knew. But of course, they had always been able to read him like a book. So he took a deep breath, and finally asked the question that had been plaguing him this whole time.

“Why now?”

A thoughtful look took over their face. “Well… I felt like now was the best time. You’re a star now, of course, but…” Concern shone in their eyes. “I’m also worried about you. And the people you bring into your life.”

He grew tense. “You mean Snail?”

They stuck their nose up. “Yes. Them. I don’t think they’re good for you, Daniel.”

“Why?” he barked out, knuckles turning white as he held tightly onto his fork. “You don’t know them. You don’t even know me anymore. You can’t just fucking disappear for almost a decade and come back thinking you can dissect the people in my life again!”

“Daniel,” they said calmly, fingers laced together on the table. “You’re causing a scene. I thought we were going to discuss this like adults.”

That tone immediately cowed him. This was just one step before… Well, something bad. And he didn’t want to go through that again.

“Sorry,” he said, eyes downcast. “But I love them. And they love me too. We’re happy together.”

“Do they really?” they asked. “Because I’m not so sure.”

It was like he took an icicle to the heart. “What makes you say that?”

They sighed and pinned him with a pitying look. “You poor boy. It’s just, well… To me, it seems like this Snail is only using you. I mean, think about it. What could they possibly see in you besides fame, fortune, and a pretty face?”

He opened his mouth to say something. One of the many qualities he had. But nothing came out. For some reason, he couldn’t think of a single thing. Had he ever even been able to think of something before?

“People like to use stars like us,” they said, reaching across to place a comforting hand on his own. “Now I don’t claim to know the exact reason, but… It only makes sense that they’d have one.”

“That’s not true,” he argued weakly. 

“Tell me, how did you two meet?”

He narrowed his eyes at them, then answered slowly, “They tried getting into a function I was attending. I helped them out, and we got to talking after that.”

At first that memory only held mortification for him. But after a while, he’d spend occasional moments reminiscing fondly about it. Over a cup of tea, or maybe while sitting next to Snail. But now… 

Now he could only see a conspiracy.

“That settles it,” they said, pulling their hand back with an outraged scowl. “Would someone like that really show up to a formal function out of the blue? I think not.”

“You don’t know what brought them there,” he said. It was the one thing he held onto. The one little fact that kept him from breaking down right then and there. Snail wouldn’t use him. They wouldn’t. And didn’t.

But fear ran down his spine as they turned their nose up and practically glared down at him. “You don’t know either.”

He didn’t have an argument for that. Yeah, he never bothered asking what they hell they were trying to do back then. It never mattered. And it still didn’t.

“Even if they do love you,” they said after they let him stew for a moment, “Do you really need someone who lets you get assaulted by some ruffian? Someone who doesn’t match you in any visible way? People are only going to question this relationship, Daniel. And if they don’t see integrity in your partner, they won’t see it in you.”

“I…”

“Look, no one is saying that you have to end things with them,” they said, voice now soft and caring. “I’m just telling you things as I see them. You're an adult, you can make decisions for yourself. I just want you to make one with all the facts in front of you. And when you’ve made your choice, you can contact me and I’ll help you out however I can.”

Something about this didn’t seem right. “But-”

“I’ve never been wrong before, have I?”

Had they? He honestly couldn’t remember. At least not for sure. It was something he didn’t want to think about, either. And what was he even going to say? That was lost too. But it was probably for the best. They really never steered him wrong before. At least, not unless he fought too hard and made them.

“...No. You haven’t.”

#smash buddies #pt15 #snailbitch #fic

[deadeyestudio]

RANT ABOUT SOCIAL ANXIETY - JD Rant Time

Oy, fuckheads. How are ya? JD here.

You know what I really, really despise? Social anxiety. Like, let me try to describe the feeling of being completely socially awkward: it's like getting kicked in the nuts by a god damn kangaroo, which causes you to lose your balance and fall off a million foot cliff, where you fall right smack dab into a giant shark pit. But, FUCKING HOLY SHIT those aren't just regular sharks!! They're sharks with friggin lasers attached to their heads. Yeah, that’s right, Austin Powers style, mother fucker! They start to zap the living shit out of you, while a donkey stands over you and has explosive diarrhea all over your face hole [Oh, and did I forget to mention that the diarrhea is made of lava? Yeah, it’s gonna hurt, mother fucker!]. So, at that point, you're already a gross ass mess. But, no you're not done yet, because fuckin’ Dracula comes out of nowhere and he's all like, “Bleh, bleh, bleh! Let me suck your dick using my pointy ass teeth!" So, he does that [in the most horrifyingly bloody way he can] and now you're a vampire that has to go around sucking floppy wieners every day or else you'll die and, oh boy,  if you die, you go to hell where satan shoves a pineapple up your ass flap for eternity. You’re fucked either way. That right there is what social anxiety feels like: it’s a volcano-diarrhea-kick-to-the-dick kinda mess. Imagine that shit every single day and every time you step outside. Yeah, fun, right? Yeah, enjoy it, bitch.

In all honesty, it is a horrible feeling. Being socially anxious is basically feeling like something bad is gonna happen to you every time you go outside your house. You look at people around you and instead of just feeling OK with yourself, you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and you think stupid, irrational shit like, Am I doing something wrong? Are there creeped out by me? The fuck is that lady staring at me for? Do I look like a weirdo or does she want sum fuck, bebe? Is my zipper down maybe? should I zip it up? Naw I'll keep it down. 

The other thing I hate about anxiety is meeting someone for the first time. The first impression counts, right? Yeah, well, that makes it so much worse when you're like me, where you seem like an emotionless, nervous ass-face. Yeah, that doesn't help the 1st impression at all. You know, that's another thing, whenever socially anxious people like me don't talk to people, it’s like everyone assumes we’re all some snobby assholes that think they're better than everyone else. Sure, some will just think you're quiet, WHICH IS WHAT THEY SHOULD FUCKING THINK, but, for others, it’s like they assume you’re an asshole. What the hell, man?

Solving this social anxiety issue should be easy, right? Oh, you just talk to people, huh? Sure, for some people that's easy. Me personally, it's a bit harder and less obvious than that. You see, I used to move from town to town to town when I was younger. Not much time for friends, not much time to socialize and no time to build up lasting friendships. It left a very big scar for a long damn time. I started to think I was a weirdo. A creep. I didn't show emotions much back then, so, hence, people were uncomfortable being near me. I heard people in class talking about me, while I sat alone in class. I was too scared to talk to anyone and I was an outcast. A loner. Not the movie type loners, like those fucking bad ass mother fuckers. No, just a sad, lone kid sitting by himself throughout my school years. People say it's easy. In reality, they don't have a fuckin clue what it's like...

At the same time, I also love social anxiety for a few interesting reasons. I have something other people don't. Solitude. For those years I had silence. I could think for myself and with that, the best thing happened. I realized we can do anything we want to. I realized the mind truly is limitless. I promised myself I'd do things most people are too lazy to do...I started to improve myself as a person... I found my callings in life. I got my confidence and self-esteem back. I also started meditating, which started to silence all that bullshit I thought I was. I started to become a better human being.

One day, my anxiety will be completely gone and I will be free, But, I'm actually happy that I had it. It both did the worst and best things of my life.For that, I am grateful to have it, but it’s time it goes away... 

In conclusion, some bad things that happen in your life can push you to become something better then what you were. These things can teach us a valuable lesson we weren't expecting to learn. it's best to just let life be life. Whatever happens... happens. Remember to improve yourself and actually think for yourselves. I was lucky enough to be pushed to think. Many of you are limited in your thinking because you believe in all that bullcrap that others tell you. Stop listening to them and listen to yourself. Think for yourself. It might change your life one day.

#my rants #rants #funny rant #serious rant #angry #irritated #comedy #funny #deep #ranting #wtf #lolwtf #social anxiety #shy #cringe #epic #weird #strange #story #truth #the truth #tf #wut

[new-pangea]

The year of new dawn

I mentioned it in the last post so i figured while it was still on my mind id say what the year of new dawn was cuz it was a major event in the worlds history

Short version: civilisations started sparking up, mostly with peace but sometimes it involved big ol fuckin booms

Long version:the year of new dawn was when the first new nations emerged and i will give a lil rundown for all five of em since im so nice

1)the union of new america: basically after the fall of civilisation the USA was fucked harder than a Romanist in Eagles Heart and a few small tribes grew and upon new dawn (gonna shorten it to that cuz its easy) they proclaimed unity among them and declared The Union of New America to be born with its capital being in Old York

2)New Gaulia: now after Europe got slammed into the Americas a couple of 'smart' guys decided to go far back into the past before fucking Rome was built at night (idk how they built in the dark either) and follow the traditions of the Gaul tribals and half way through new dawn New Gaulia was proclaimed with its capital being Eagles Heart (i thought Paris was a nice name but who am i to judge)

3)The Grand Romanist Imperium: oh god these fuckers are bloody annoying if you ask me which by reading this you basically did but onto their formation, some fuckhead calling himself 'the descendant of Romulus' decided to rally the people in Rome to forge a new empire based on the old Roman empire down to the fuckin letter, which for some reason doesnt include a ton of gay shit (either rome had tons of gay guys or im mixxing history with some weird porno i found a couple years back) but yea he praises Caesar and Augustus like gods and other crazy shit like that along with sacrifices of 'lesser people', anyway upon new dawn the Imperium was proclaimed with the capital being Rome (duh)

4)The Moscovite Union: So Moscow got lucky during the collapse and was relatively unruined apart from that big ass church being fucking decimated(i guess god fuckin hated that one church) so a month after the collapse the people of Moscow already were forming a civilisation and a year later they were making a fucking army they named the Sons of Stalin corps and used the SS corps to march on nearby towns to force them under Moscovite rule (fuckin dick move frankly) and on day one of new dawn the Moscovite Union was proclaimed by their leader king Karl Stalinov I with their capital in Moscow

5)The Zulu Kingdom: yup the fucking zulus are back from the past with a pretty nice nation in the south that was prolly one of the least difficult to form nations cuz on new dawn a bunch of tribes met and agreed to unite under the Zulu banner with their capital being named New Zula (bit meh name i know but eh let em do as they do i guess)

So thats that the new dawn nations explained

[corruptionofteller]

27. Placing The Blame

The lingering cloud of smoke hovered above the members heads as they waited for Jax to arrive for church. There was no doubting why it was called; they recently had a huge load of shit dropped in their laps. Wrapping their heads around chaos and disorder wasn’t something they weren’t used to; they were consumed with that almost on a daily basis. But to know their President’s ol’ lady had been through not only physical and sexual abuse but had murdered the man in cold blood with her own two hands was even more than they were prepared for. And to top off the whole string of events to find out that Scarlet’s old man was murdered because of her  actions was a lot to take in, even for the leather clad men wearing the reaper patch proudly.

The room fell eerily silent when Jax finally pushed open the heavy doors padded in leather. The expression on the biker’s face was evident he had been through hell and back in his own mind after leaving the other night with Scarlet, his ol’ lady. Each one of the members took a good hard look at the king of Charming as he pulled out his chair at the head of the table and sat down slowly, dragging it in towards the varnished carved surface. Both forearms rested on the edge, his right hand playing with the wooden handle of the gavel that had been used by the men before him; his old man JT and his stepfather Clay Morrow. His eyes had yet to lift and look the men of mayhem that sat before him in waiting.

Inhaling slow and steady, Jax finally allowed his head to raise and one by one he looked at the men that were like brothers; without a doubt they were all there to support and retaliate in any way he needed. But the trouble was, the president of SAMCRO, the man with all the answers was suddenly without any. He didn’t really have a clue where to start. His anger usually led him in situations like this, drove him most times to do the unthinkable but that had already been done. Scarlet took care of her problem herself and that in itself made Jax feel helpless and that was a very unfamiliar feeling for the biker king.

“Brotha, we’re really sorry, but you know we are here for you and Scarlet. For Otto..” Tig paused a moment as it seemed he got a bit choked up. “Anything you need…”

“He’s righ’ Jackie. We’re ‘ere fer ya brotha. Tell us wha’ ya need.” Chibs reached out and rested a hand on Jax’s left forearm, causing the young president to turn his head to look at his brother with glossy eyes. He needed to get it together and focus on what he needed to do for his club, for his late brother and for his family. After a few moments of silence, Jax began to speak.

“The DA has no idea Scarlet murdered that guy. They haven’t made that connection and we need to keep it that way.” The blond biker took a breath, slipping his fresh pack of smokes from his kutte even though his urges would have been better curbed with some fine weed.

“I was with her for that other dude she…” Tig piped up suddenly pausing his words as Jax lifted a brow at his brother’s words.

“She what, Tig?” Jax hesitated lighting his Marlboro as he awaited an answer.

Tig’s eyes went wide when he realized that Jax possibly didn’t know about the fucker Scarlet had put down when she first arrived in Charming and approached the club. “She...fucked up another guy right after she got here, boss. Some guy that fucked with David, I think? I didn’t ask questions when I saw what she did to the poor bastard. But Scarlet don’t leave no evidence, not from what I saw.” It was obvious Tig was having a hard time swallowing after spilling that info to the club president and the rest of the MC.

The sound of Jax’s molars grinding in the back was no doubt loud enough for the other members to hear as he narrowed his gleaming blue eyes in Trager’s direction. Obviously Scarlet was more used to this kind of life than Jax was aware. In that second it was pretty obvious to him just how much of Otto lingered in her bones. There wasn’t going to be any changing of that fact; Scarlet was who she was, an outlaw of sorts just as he was. He couldn’t fault her for the things she had to do growing up. Hell, he did shit he regretted but at the time was necessary to keep him, his club or his family safe just as he knew Scarlet was doing the same. He couldn’t be angry; after all where would that get them? Another fight to cause stress she didn’t need? Instead Jax needed to focus on keeping her and their unborn baby safe and out of harms way when it came to the law.

“Juice….I need any intel on this Andy Avery. Release date, we need that shit. Find out anything you can find out on him or his dead brother.”

“On it Jax.” Without any other prompting Juice had the laptop on top of the reaper table and fired up.

“I want that motherfucker dead. But I want him brought to me. Alive. He’s going to know just how Otto felt in his last moments. That bastard that hurt Scarlet, he’s lucky he’s in the cocksuckin’ ground. Unfortunately, there ain’t more we can do when it comes to him. It’s just a waiting game on the brother.” Jax finally pinched his cigarette between his lips, flicking the end lit with his cheap ass lighter.

Chibs leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand down over his salt and pepper goatee. “Ye t’ink we need ta reach out ta Janowitz, Jackie? Git some intel dat way?” The Scot then mimicking his president with a smoke.

“Nah we’ll see what Juice digs up on the bastard first. If we’re lucky the fuckhead gets released soon. Wouldn’t want him to have the protection of the inside for too long.” Jax’s mouth finally took on the shape of a wry grin. The thoughts of torturing the asshole that killed his brother danced pleasantly in his head. He truly was a monster; only a true savage like Jax Teller would draw pleasure from gutting a man like a motherfuckin’ fish. His smirk widened as he drew back his second drag from his cigarette.

“I call dibs on burying the asshole.” Hap chimed in, the toothpick he has propped in the corner of his mouth shifting to the other side in one swift movement.

“You got it brotha.” The members that were gathered around the familiar table roared out in a laugh just as a faint knock came to the door and it creaked open, a tired looking Scarlet peeking her head into the room.

“Sorry baby..I’ll wait..” His ol’ lady had obviously been crying and not sleeping from the red swollen eyes she displayed.

“No, babe..it’s alright..we’re done.” Jax waved her in before looking to each of the guys and giving a nod of his head. One by one they lifted and pushed back from their seats and headed out of the room. Scarlet silently walked towards Jax as he crooked his finger for her to come closer. “Sweetheart, you look like shit. No offense but...did you sleep? At all?”

Scarlet

For the past few nights Scarlet laid awake as Jax slept beside her peacefully, a hand always remaining on some part of her, mostly her small rounded belly. When he would shift and begin to wake she would shut her eyes, faking she was sound asleep. The truth was the Queen to Jax Teller was deathly tired but when she would close her eyes her brain kicked into overdrive and would play out Otto’s death on a constant loop. Each time she would imagine words spoken to him by the murderer. She could feel his disappointment when gaining knowledge that she the treasured daughter was his downfall. After all the shit Otto pulled in his life for the club, all the murders he had gotten away with...Scarlet could not get over the fact that it was her murder that caused his heart to stop beating.

Jax had made mention of a church meeting this morning with some other usual runs. Once Jax had left her behind in the house she got up in her now normal state of numbness. She forced herself to eat for the sake of her child, along with keeping up with the house so Jax wouldn’t question her state of mind by coming home to an untouched house.

What was eating away at Scarlet was the fact she couldn’t go after Andy. She wanted to walk into that prison and show him just who he fucked with but for more than one reason, besides the obvious, Scarlet was stuck. She felt helpless and useless. Was this really the life she now succumb to taking on the boring life of an Ol’ lady that Gemma had glorified as some high honor? Yes, Scarlet was happy to be with Jax, proud she was his old lady but keeping house and raising babies couldn’t be all she was capable of for the club. She may never wear a kutte and sit at the table but surely she could be of more help than housewife chores.   

Sitting on the couch in silence for the better part of an hour Scarlet finally stroked the tears away from her eyes and decided she needed to be part of everything. She knew the club would be making moves on Andy and possibly the other men who took advantage of her. It was her right to be involved, or so she thought, as she walked out the door into her car with the mind set she was going to demand to be in the loop of this now club business.

When she got to the club she didn’t even realize she was there until she parked. Scarlet was in a constant absent minded demeanor. She would forget mid sentence what she was even talking about, or she would walk into a room and forget why she was even there. She blamed it on the pregnancy but in actuality it was a mixture of that along with not sleeping and being emotionally drained day after day. She would take puking a few times a day over the constant battle she was having with herself.

She was the only woman ballsy enough to knock and walk in the church doors without an actual invite. She looked up seeing all the men turn with serious faces when she stepped in. “Sorry baby...I’ll wait.” She didn’t want to make Jax look bad in front of the men, wanting to take back walking in but Jax stopped her before she could walk back out.

“No, babe..it’s alright..we’re done.”  Each of the men in leather gave her a small hug as they exited the room after Jax had dismissed them leaving the king and queen alone in the room they had conceived their unborn child.

“Sweetheart, you look like shit. No offense but...did you sleep? At all?” Scarlet looked up at Jax mortified by his comment. Her hand smoothing down over her hair trying to quickly fix herself, mentally cursing herself for forgetting to get fully ready before making an entrance.

“I..I haven’t Jax. I can’t. I try but I can’t stop thinking about this whole mess. I don’t do well with just sitting at home and not doing anything Jax. I wish I could for the baby but my mind won’t stop turning. I can’t stop seeing Otto. I don’t know what is happening to me. I don’t feel like me.” She stepped closer to Jax whose arms had been open for her to come sit in his lap. Before her ass even sat back down over his lap she began to cry which seemed like all she did these past few days. Jax closed his arms securely around Scarlet, his silence was only due to his compilation of whether or not her feelings were related to the pregnancy or having to adjust to the life of an ol’ lady.

He didn’t know what else to say to her other then what he had already said. He knew as much as he tried to sympathize with the mother to his second born child he had no idea how it felt to know without doubt that your parent was killed due to a direct cause of one of your actions. Scarlet relaxed, leaning into him, shutting her eyes. He didn’t need to say anything, in fact him not saying anything spoke to her. Something about the club house was calming to her. She could never fully relax in the house where her old man’s dead ex wife seemed to still be present.

It wasn’t long until Jax noticed a change in Scarlet’s breathing putting together his ol’ Lady was falling asleep. He lightly kissed her temple not wanting to move although he knew she would not be able to really rest the way she would need to in his lap in a worn on leather chair.

Jax

The change in Scarlet’s breathing as her body relaxed against his chest made him aware she had finally drifted off for some much needed sleep. It ripped him apart inside knowing the battle she was enduring within herself he could do nothing about. No amount of reassuring from him, or anyone for that matter, was going to let her rest with the fact that Otto’s death was directly connected to the crime she committed. He wished he could take that from her, take all the guilt that was now plaguing her inside and take it all on for himself to endure. If it was only that simple.

Running his rough, calloused hand up along Scarlet’s side, his whiskered jaw rested on top of her dark locks as she slept. He didn’t want to move her; she needed the rest more than he did. He hadn’t slept well since all the information they all now knew came to light but he was aware Scarlet had slept even less. He wasn’t naive to the fact she had been faking her slumber over the past few nights just to make sure he didn’t worry. It was a typical ol’ lady move, taking care of the man she loved, even if it meant doing without for herself. He realized she was changing. Everything wasn’t all about herself anymore, not like it had been when he first met her. Change was sometimes good, even he knew that. But it was a hard commitment to make, especially for someone like her. He knew because she was just like him, the female version of Jax Teller. But for the good of their unborn child and for him, Scarlet Delaney was taking the form of another kind of woman. One that would become deadlier than the one before.

Jax slipped his forearm under Scarlet’s knees and held her bridal style against his chest as he forced himself to his feet. He wasn’t sure just how much time had passed with her snoozing peacefully in his arms but he knew it was long enough to make his ass start to go to sleep. Careful not to wake her, he reached for the door and left the room to take her to the apartment in the back to rest. He laid her down into the bed before pulling the blankets up around her as she curled up on her side and slipped her hands under her head. Jax stepped back and just stared down at the woman he was falling in love with more everyday. She looked so peaceful, and he hoped that maybe her mind finally was going to shut off the never ending guilt cycle to allow her to sleep and get some much needed rest. Once he broke his gaze away from Scarlet he glanced at the clock on the old nightstand. He still had a few hours before him and a few of the other guys had to make a run to the warehouse to check on the newest stock and meet Cacuzza. Stepping over to the opposite side of the bed Jax kicked off his sneakers and quietly slipped onto the bed with his ol’ lady, laying his head on the pillow next to her as he watched her sleep. Maybe a little more rest wouldn’t hurt for him too, he thought, as his eyes became heavy and darkness overtook him.

Scarlet

“Scarlet!” Her name echoed in the hall to the club apartment. Scarlet was in such a trance she didn’t know if she was dreaming or awake since it felt the same to her due to the lack of sleep. It was mostly Jax deciding she needed a nap and knowing the only way to keep her asleep would be if he laid down with her. The syllables in the tone that was screaming out were not familiar with anyone in the clubhouse. She had thought she was in mid dream when Jax shot up in bed to his feet, landing on the plush carpet before Scarlet’s eyes even had a chance to flutter open.

“Stay here.” Jax demanded just as there was a knock on the door. He practically ripped the door off the hinges being met by Gemma who was pushed out his way before she could even speak.

“Scarlet you little /slut/. I know you are in here. Get out here!” The voice again called out.

She sat up looking to Gemma who gave her a knowing look. One that said ‘What kind of shit did you bring here now?’. With an annoyed sigh she put her shirt back on walking out to the main entrance. Jax was yelling at the intruder but getting nowhere. She was being held back by the MC  but was frantically yelling out a slur of ugly words. Scarlet stood calmly behind Jax watching as her mother tried to fight her way in.

“It’s fine.” Scarlet finally spoke out earning a quick glance from Jax. “She is my mother.” The words fell exhaustedly from her lips while her hand rank down her hair like she was trying to brush out the disappointments her mother had generously given her over the years.

“That is right now get your disgusting hands off me.” Joanna had finally shoved her way through, giving Scarlet a spiteful glare. “Look who is the cheap croeater now. Funny how you always hated me for having Otto as a father and here you are knocked up by one of these losers just like I was. You think you will be loved by him.. You are pathetic.“   

“HEY! You do not get to come into /my/ club and talk to /my/ ol’ lady that way. I don’t give a fuck who you are!” Jax was quick to step in between the two. Scarlet’s mother laughed, stumbling to the side almost tripping over herself but Tig reluctantly caught her, helping her to stand up right.

Scarlet inhaled a deep breath letting the flush of embarrassment wash over her that she was all too familiar with. “How much have you had to drink Ma?” Taking a step forward, coming face to face with Joanna, her tone suddenly changed as Scarlet had expected.

“Baby I missed you, I just wanted to see you. You always loved him more then me and he was never around. I’ve been taking my meds. I swear, baby, I have.” Joanna began to force a sob. All Scarlet could do was drape an arm over her shoulder, nodding for Tig and the others to step back and let her take over.

“I know Ma. But you are not supposed to drink with them, remember? You have to be sober if you take them.”  She guided her mother away from the club to the back apartment for some privacy. She prayed as she walked away that this was a dream and that Joanna was not really in Charming.

Once they made their way into the apartment Scarlet kicked the door shut with her boot now faced with the monster she called mom. Joanna sat down on the edge of the bed still sobbing and muttering inaudible. Scarlet didn’t know where to even begin. She just stood there watching the mess unfold like the thousands of times she had witnessed before. She wanted her to leave but she also wanted to know how and why she had found her. “Mom what are you doing here?” She finally asked, keeping a distance between them. Joanna looked up drying her eyes only to break down before she even had a clear moment to think.

“Okay, okay mom. You are fine. You’re safe. Why don’t you lay down? Let’s sleep it off huh?” With more hesitation than compassion Scarlet helped her lay down in bed, covering with the faded worn blankets. Within minutes Joanna had passed out cold and Scarlet began her usual routine by walking to the mini fridge taking out the beers and the bottle of Jack Daniels Jax had kept in there. She did a quick sweep for any drugs or items that may cause harm to anyone before making her way out the room.

When Scarlet opened the door with her hands full, Jax was leaning against the wall. He didn’t need to say anything to her because his eyes said it all as he gathered the beers from her arms. “Babe, what can we do to help her?” He asked in a low rustling tone. She shook her head, walking away and shutting the door behind her.

“She can’t be helped. She will sleep it off and when she wakes up she will take off.” Scarlet spoke like her mother was a broken record player, walking past Gemma who watched the whole thing unfold. The look Gemma gave Scar was one of understanding. It was almost like Gemma seen Scarlet for why she was the way she was. It didn’t change the opinion of Scarlet on Gemma or Gemma on Scarlet but it did show some insight as to why Scarlet felt a need to push Gemma out and away. Mommy Issues.

“Babe she is your /mother/ You can’t.”  Jax began only cut off by Scarlet.

“She is not Gemma Jax. Joanna has and never will be motherly. She is here for herself not me. She is drunk and wants something. Please do not stand there and tell me how to handle her. I have done this thousands of times. I want her gone when I come back. I need her gone Jax.” Grabbing her car keys she began to walk to the door only to turn on her heel, hightailing it towards the church doors where Otto’s remains had been put on display. She clearly didn’t want her mother to have anything to do with Otto. The thought of her discovering his ashes only added a deep rage inside the mother to be. She knew if her mom found out his remains were there she would somehow turn it into all about Joanna. Otto didn’t deserve that and Scarlet wasn’t about to risk it. Gathering the urn and walking back out past Jax and the rest of the club without another word Scarlet left the clubhouse to take out the trash as Gemma would say.